In the 

Midst of Alarms 



BY ROBERT BARR 



SECOND EDITION 



New 

FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY 
PUBLISHERS 



COPYRIGHT, 1894, BY 
FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY. 



TO 

E. B. 



394417 



IN THE MIDST OF ALARMS. 



CHAPTER I. 

IN the marble-floored vestibule of the Metro- 
politan Grand Hotel in Buffalo, Professor Still- 
son Renmark stood and looked about him with 
the anxious manner of a person unused to the 
gaudy splendor of the modern American house 
of entertainment. The professor had paused 
halfway between the door and the marble 
counter, because he began to fear that he had 
arrived at an inopportune time, that something 
unusual was going on. The hurry and bustle 
bewildered him. 

An omnibus, partly filled with passengers, 
was standing at the door, its steps backed over 
the curbstone, and beside it was a broad, flat 
van, on which stalwart porters were heaving 
great square, iron-bound trunks belonging to 
commercial travelers, and the more fragile, but 
not less bulky, Saratogas, doubtless the property 
of the ladies who sat patiently in the omnibus. 
Another vehicle which had just arrived was 
backing up to the curb, and the irate driver used 
language suitable to the occasion ; for the two 
restive horses were not behaving exactly in the 
way he liked. 

A man with a stentorian, but monotonous 
and mournful, voice was filling the air with the 
information that a train was about to depart 



. ; Jtt tbs Obibt of.Blarms. 

for Albany, Saratoga, Troy, 'Boston, New York, 
and the East. When he came to the words 
" the East," his voice dropped to a sad minor 
key, as if the man despaired of the fate of those 
who took their departure in that direction. 
Every now and then a brazen gong sounded 
sharply ; and one of the negroes who sat in a 
row on a bench along the marble-paneled wall 
sprang forward to the counter, took somebody's 
handbag, and disappeared in the direction of 
the elevator with the newly arrived guest fol- 
lowing him. Groups of men stood here and 
there conversing, heedless of the rush of arrival 
and departure around them. 

Before the broad and lofty plate-glass win- 
dows sat a row of men, some talking, some 
reading, and some gazing outside, but all with 
their feet on the brass rail which had been 
apparently put there for that purpose. Nearly 
everybody was smoking a cigar. A lady of 
dignified mien came down the hall to the front 
of the counter, and spoke quietly to the clerk, 
who bent his well-groomed head deferentially 
on one side as he listened to what she had to 
say. The men instantly made way for her. 
She passed along among them as composedly 
as if she were in her own drawing room, inclin- 
ing her head slightly to one or other of her 
acquaintances, which salutation was gravely 
acknowledged by the raising of the hat and the 
temporary removal of the cigar from the lips. 

All this was very strange to the professor, 
and he felt himself in a new world, with whose 
customs he was not familiar. Nobody paid the 
slightest attention to him as he stood there 
among it all with his satchel in his hand. As 
he timidly edged up to the counter, and tried 
to accumulate courage enough to address the 
clerk, a young man came forward, flung his 
handbag on the polished top of the counter, 



1Fn tbe .fllMDst of Alarms. 7 

metaphorically brushed the professor aside, 
pulled the bulky register toward him, and in- 
scribed his name on the page with a rapidity 
equaled only by the illegibility of the result. 

" Hello, Sam ! " he said to the clerk. " How's 
things ? Get my telegram ? " 

"Yes," answered the clerk; "but I can't 
give you 27. It's been taken for a week. I 
reserved 85 for you, and had to hold on with 
my teeth to do that." 

The reply of the young man was merely a 
brief mention of the place of torment. 

" It is hot," said the clerk blandly. " In 
from Cleveland ? " 

" Yes. Any letters for me ? " 

" Couple of telegrams. You'll find them up 
in 85." 

" Oh, you were cocksure I'd take that room ? " 

" I was cocksure you'd have to. It is either 
that or the fifth floor. We're full. Couldn't 
give a better room to the President if he came." 

" Oh, well, what's good enough for the Presi- 
dent I can put up with for a couple of days." 

The hand of the clerk descended on the bell. 
The negro sprang forward and took the " grip." 

" Eighty-five," said the clerk ; and the drum- 
mer and the negro disappeared. 

" Is there any place where I could leave my 
bag for a while ? " the professor at last said 
timidly to the clerk. 

"Your bag? " 

The professor held it up in view. 

" Oh, your grip. Certainly. Have a room, 
sir?" And the clerk's hand hovered over the 
bell. 

" No. At least, not just yet. You see, 
I'm " 

" All right. The baggage man there to the 
left will check it for you." 

" Any letters for Bond ? " said a man, push- 



8 f n tbe /flM&st of Blarms. 

ing himself in front of the professor. The 
clerk pulled out a fat bunch of letters from the 
compartment marked " B," and handed the 
whole lot to the inquirer, who went rapidly over 
them, selected two that appeared to be addressed 
to him, and gave the letters a push toward the 
clerk, who placed them where they were before. 

The professor paused a moment, then, realiz- 
ing that the clerk had forgotten him, sought 
the baggage man, whom he found in a room 
filled with trunks and valises. The room com- 
municated with the great hall by means of a 
square opening whose lower ledge was breast 
high. The professor stood before it, and 
handed the valise to the man behind this open- 
ing, who rapidly attached one brass check to 
the handle with a leather thong, and flung the 
other piece of brass to the professor. The 
latter was not sure but there was something to 
pay, still he quite correctly assumed that if 
there had been the somewhat brusque man 
would have had no hesitation in mentioning the 
fact; in which surmise his natural common 
sense proved a sure guide among strange sur- 
roundings. There was no false delicacy about 
the baggage man. 

Although the professor was to a certain ex- 
tent bewildered by the condition of things, there 
was still in his nature a certained dogged per- 
sistence that had before now stood him in good 
stead, and which had enabled him to distance, 
in the long run, much more brilliant men. He 
was not at all satisfied with his brief interview 
with the clerk. He resolved to approach that 
busy individual again, if he could arrest his 
attention. It was some time before he caught 
the speaker's eye, as it were, but when he did 
so, he said : 

" I was about to say to you that I am wait- 
ing for a friend from New York who may not 



1fn tbe jfllMDst of Blarms* 9 

yet have arrived. His name is Mr. Richard 
Yates of the 

" Oh, Dick Yates ! Certainly. He's here." 
Turning to the negro, he said : " Go down to 
the billiard room and see if Mr. Yates is there. 
If he is not, look for him at the bar." 

The clerk evidently knew Mr. Dick Yates. 
Apparently not noticing the look of amaze- 
ment that had stolen over the professor's face, 
the clerk said : 

" If you wait in the reading room, I'll send 
Yates to you when he comes. The boy will find 
him if he's in the house ; but he may be uptown." 

The professor, disliking to trouble the oblig- 
ing clerk further, did not ask him where the 
reading room was. He inquired, instead, of a 
hurrying porter, and received the curt but com- 
prehensive answer : 

" Dining room next floor. Reading, smok- 
ing, and writing rooms up the hall. Billiard 
room, bar, and lavatory downstairs." 

The professor, after 'getting into the barber 
shop and the cigar store, finally found his way 
into the reading room. Numerous daily papers 
were scattered around on the table, each 
attached to a long, clumsy cleft holder made of 
wood ; while other journals, similarly encum- 
bered, hung from racks against the wall. The 
professor sat down in one of the easy leather- 
covered chairs, but, instead of taking up a 
paper, drew a thin book from his pocket, in 
which he was soon so absorbed that he became 
entirely unconscious of his strange surround- 
ings. A light touch on the shoulder brought 
him up from his book into the world again, and 
he saw, looking down on him, the stern face of 
a heavily mustached stranger. 

" I beg your pardon, sir, but may I ask if you 
are a guest of this house ? " 

A shade of apprehension crossed the pro- 



io ifn tbe .flMfcet of Blarma. 

fessor's face as he slipped the book into his 
pocket. He had vaguely felt that he was tres- 
passing when he first entered the hotel, and 
now his doubts were confirmed. 

" I I am not exactly a guest," he stammered. 

" What do you mean by not exactly a guest ? " 
continued the other, regarding the professor 
with a cold and scrutinizing gaze. " A man is 
either a guest or he is not, I take it. Which is 
it in your case ? " 

" I presume, technically speaking, I am not." 

" Technically speaking ! More evasions. Let 
me ask you, sir, as an ostensibly honest man, if 
you imagine that all this luxury this this 
elegance is maintained for nothing ? Do you 
think, sir, that it is provided for any man who 
has cheek enough to step out of the street and 
enjoy it ? Is it kept up, I ask, for people who 
are, technically speaking, not guests ? " 

The expression of conscious guilt deepened on 
the face of the unfortunate professor. He had 
nothing to say. He realized that his conduct 
was too flagrant to admit of defense, so he 
attempted none. Suddenly the countenance of 
his questioner lit up with a smile, and he smote 
the professor on the shoulder. 

"Well, old stick-in-the-mud, you haven't 
changed a particle in fifteen years ! You don't 
mean to pretend you don't know me ? " 

"You can't you can't be Richard Yates ? " 

" I not only can, but I can't be anybody else. 
I know, because I have often tried. Well, well, 
well, well ! Stilly we used to call you ; don't 
you remember ? I'll never forget that time we 
sang ' Oft in the stilly night ' in front of your 
window when you were studying for the exams. 
You always were a quiet fellow, Stilly. I've 
been waiting for you nearly a whole day. I was 
up just now with a party of friends when the 
boy brought me your card a little philanthropic 



fn tbe fllMDst of Blatms* n 

gathering sort of mutual benefit arrangement, 
you know : each of us contributed what we 
could spare to a general fund, which was given 
to some deserving person in the crowd." 

"Yes," said the professor dryly. "I heard 
the clerk telling the boy where he would be 
most likely to find you." 

" Oh, you did, eh ? " cried Yates, with a laugh. 
" Yes, Sam generally knows where to send for 
me ; but he needn't have been so darned public 
about it. Being a newspaper man, I know 
what ought to go in print and what should have 
the blue pencil run through it. Sam is very dis- 
creet, as a general thing ; but then he knew, of 
course, the moment he set eyes on you, that you 
were an old pal of mine." 

Again Yates laughed, a very bright and 
cheery laugh for so evidently wicked a man. 

" Come along," he said, taking the professor 
by the arm. " We must get you located." 

They passed out into the hall, and drew up 
at the clerk's counter. 

"I say, Sam," cried Yates, "-can't you do 
something better for us than the fifth floor ? I 
didn't come to Buffalo to engage in ballooning. 
No sky parlors for me, if I can help it." 

"I'm sorry, Dick," said the clerk ; "but I ex- 
pect the fifth floor will be gone when the 
Chicago express gets in." 

" Well, what can you do for us, anyhow? " 

" I can let you have 518. That's the next 
room to yours. Really, they're the most com- 
fortable rooms in the house this weather. Fine 
lookout over the lake. I wouldn't mind having a 
sight of the lake myself, if I could leave the desk." 

" All right. But I didn't come to look at the 
lake, nor yet at the railroad tracks this side, nor 
at Buffalo Creek either, beautiful and romantic 
as it is, nor to listen to the clanging of the ten 
thousand locomotives that pass within hearing 



12 ifn tbe /BMfcst of Blarms, 

distance for the delight of your guests. The 
fact is that, always excepting Chicago, Buffalo 
is more like for the professor's sake I'll say 
Hades, than any other place in America." 

" Oh, Buffalo's all right," said the clerk, with 
that feeling of local loyalty which all Americans 
possess. " Say, are you here on this Fenian 
snap ? " 

" What Fenian snap ? " asked the newspaper 
man. 

"Oh! don't you know about it? I thought, the 
moment I saw you, that you were here for this 
affair. Well, don't say I told you, but I can put 
you on to one of the big guns if you want the 
particulars. They say they're going to take 
Canada. I told 'em that I wouldn't take Canada 
as a gift, let alone fight for it. I've been there." 

Yates' newspaper instinct thrilled him as he 
thought of the possible sensation. Then the 
light slowly died out of his eyes when he looked 
at the professor, who had flushed somewhat and 
compressed his lips as he listened to the slight- 
ing remarks on his country. 

"Well, Sam," said the newspaper man at 
last, "it isn't more than once in a lifetime that 
you'll find me give the go-by to a piece of news, 
but the fact is I'm on my vacation just now. 
About the first I've had for fifteen years ; so, 
you see, I must take care of it. No, let the 
Argus get scooped, if it wants to. They'll 
value my services all the more when I get back. 
No. 518, I think you said ? " 

The clerk handed over the key, and the pro- 
fessor gave the boy the check for his valise at 
Yates' suggestion. 

" Now, get a move on you," said Yates to 
the elevator boy. " We're going right through 
with you." 

And so the two friends were shot up to- 
gether to the fifth floor. 



CHAPTER II. 

THE sky parlor, as Yates had termed it, cer- 
tainly commanded a very extensive view. Im- 
mediately underneath was a wilderness of roofs. 
Farther along were the railway tracks that 
Yates objected to ; and a line of masts and 
propeller funnels marked the windings of 
Buffalo Creek, along whose banks arose 
numerous huge elevators, each marked by 
some tremendous letter of the alphabet, done 
in white paint against the somber brown of the 
big building. Still farther to the west was a 
more grateful and comforting sight for a hot 
day. The blue lake, dotted with white sails 
and an occasional trail of smoke, lay shimmer- 
ing under the broiling sun. Over the water, 
through the distant summer haze, there could 
be seen the dim line of the Canadian shore. 

" Sit you down," cried Yates, putting both 
hands on the other's shoulders, and pushing 
him into a chair near the window. Then, plac- 
ing his finger on the electric button, he added : 
" What will you drink ? " 

" I'll take a glass of water, if it can be had 
without trouble," said Renmark. 

Yates' hand dropped from the electric button 
hopelessly to his side, and he looked reproach- 
fully at the professor. 

" Great Heavens ! " he cried, " have something 
mild. Don't go rashly in for Buffalo water be- 
fore you realize what it is made of. Work up 
to it gradually. Try a sherry cobbler or a milk 
shake as a starter." 



14 1Fn tbe flhibet of alarms* 

" Thank you, no. A glass of water will do 
very well for me. Order what you like for 
yourself." 

" Thanks, I can be depended on for doing 
that." , He pushed the button, and, when the 
boy appeared, said : " Bring up an iced cobbler, 
and charge it to Professor Renmark, No. 518. 
Bring also a pitcher of ice water for Yates, No. 
520. There," he continued gleefully, " I'm go- 
ing to have all the drinks, except the ice water, 
charged to you. I'll pay the bill, but I'll keep 
the account to hold over your head in the future. 
Professor Stillson Renmark, debtor to Metro- 
politan Grand one sherry cobbler, one gin 
sling, one whisky cocktail, and so on. Now, 
then, Stilly, let's talk business. You're not 
married, I take it, or you wouldn't have re- 
sponded to my invitation so promptly." The 
professor shook his head. " Neither am I. 
You never had the courage to propose to a girl ; 
and I never had the time." 

" Lack of self-conceit was not your failing in 
the old days, Richard," said Renmark quietly. 

Yates laughed. " Well, it didn't hold me 
back any, to my knowledge. Now I'll tell you 
how I've got along since we attended old Scrag- 
more's academy together, fifteen years ago. 
How time does fly ! When I left, I tried teach- 
ing for one short month. I had some theories 
on the education of our youth which did not 
seem to chime in with the prejudices the 
school trustees had already formed on the 
subject." 

The professor w*as at once all attention. 
Touch a man on his business, and he generally 
responds by being interested. 

" And what were your theories ? " he asked. 

" Well, I thought a teacher should look after 
the physical as well as the mental welfare of 
his pupils. It did not seem to me that his duty 



f n tbe /HM&st of Blarms, 15 

to those under his charge ended with mere 
book learning." 

" I quite agree with you," said the professor 
cordially. 

"Thanks. Well, the trustees didn't. I 
joined the boys at their games, hoping my 
example would have an influence on their con- 
duct on the playground as well as in the school- 
room. We got up a rattling good cricket club. 
You may not remember that I stood rather 
better in cricket at the academy than I did in 
mathematics or. grammar. By handicapping 
me with several poor players, and having the 
best players among the boys in opposition, we 
made a pretty evenly matched team at school 
section No. 12. One clay, at noon, we began 
a game. The grounds were in excellent con- 
dition, and the opposition boys were at their 
best. My side was getting the worst of it. 
I was very much interested ; and, when one 
o'clock came, I thought it a pity to call school 
and spoil so good and interesting a contest. 
The boys were unanimously of the same opinion. 
The girls were happy, picnicking under the 
trees. So we played cricket all the after- 
noon." 

" I think that was carrying your theory a 
little too far," said the professor dubiously. 

"Just what the trustees thought when they 
came to hear of it. So they dismissed me ; and 
I think my leaving was the only case on record 
where the pupils genuinely mourned a teacher's 
departure. I shook the dust of Canada from 
my feet, and have never regretted it. I tramped 
to Buffalo, continuing to shake the dust off at 
every step. (Hello ! here's your drinks at last, 
Stilly. I had forgotten about them an unusual 
thing with me. That's all right, boy ; charge 
it to room 518. Ah! that hits the spot on a 
hot day.) Well, where was I ? Oh, yes, at 



16 Hn tbc jfllMdst of Blarm0 

Buffalo. I got a place on a paper here, at just 
enough to keep life in me ; but I liked the work. 
Then I drifted to Rochester at a bigger salary, 
afterward to Albany at a still bigger salary, and 
of course Albany is only a few hours from New 
York, and that is where all newspaper men 
ultimately land, if they are worth their salt. I 
saw a small section of the war as special cor- 
respondent, got hurt, and rounded up in the 
hospital. Since then, although only a reporter, 
I am about the top of the tree in that line, and 
make enough money to pay my poker debts and 
purchase iced drinks to soothe the asperities 
of the game. When there is anything big go- 
ing on anywhere in the country, I am there, 
with other fellows to do the drudgery ; I writ- 
ing the picturesque descriptions and interview- 
ing the big men. My stuff goes red-hot 
over the telegraph wire, and the humble pos- 
tage stamp knows my envelopes no more. I 
am acquainted with every hotel clerk that 
amounts to anything from New York to San 
Francisco. If I could save money, I should be 
rich, for I make plenty ; but the hole at the top 
of my trousers pocket has lost me a lot of cash, 
and I don't seem to be able to get it mended. 
Now, you've listened with your customary 
patience in order to give my self-esteem, as 
you called it, full sway, I am grateful. I will 
reciprocate. How about yourself?" 

The professor spoke slowly. " I have had no 
such adventurous career," he began. " I have 
not shaken Canadian dust from my feet, and 
have not made any great success. I have 
simply plodded ; and am in no danger of be- 
coming rich, although I suppose I spend as 
little as any man. After you were expel after 
you left the aca " 

" Don't mutilate the good old English lan- 
guage, Stilly. You were right in the first 



Hit tbe /BMfcst of Blarma, 17 

place. I am not thin-skinned. You were say- 
ing after I was expelled. Go on." 

" I thought perhaps it might be a sore sub- 
ject. You remember, you were very indignant 
at the time, and " 

" Of course I was and am still, for that 
matter. It was an outrage ! " 

" I thought it was proved that you helped to 
put the pony in the principal's room." 

"Oh, certainly. That. Of course. But 
what I detested was the way the principal 
worked the thing. He allowed that villain 
Spink to turn evidence against us, and Spink 
stated I originated the affair, whereas I could 
claim no such honor. It was Spink's own proj- 
ect, which I fell in with, as I did with every 
disreputable thing proposed. Of course the 
principal believed at once that I was the chief 
criminal. Do you happen to know if Spink 
has been hanged yet ? " 

" I believe he is a very reputable business 
man in Montreal, and much respected." 

" I might have suspected that. Well, you 
keep your eye on the respected Spink. If he 
doesn't fail some day, and make a lot of 
money, I'm a Dutchman. But go on. This 
is digression. By the way, just push that 
electric button. You're nearest, and it is too 
hot to move. Thanks. After I was ex- 
pelled " 

" After your departure I took a diploma, and 
for a year or two taught a class in the academy. 
Then, as I studied during my spare time, I got 
a chance as master of a grammar school near 
Toronto, chiefly, as I think, though the recom- 
mendation of Principal Scragmore. I had my 
degree by this time. Then " 

There was a gentle tap at the door. 

"Come in!" shouted Yates. " Oh, it's you. 
Just bring up another cooling cobbler, will you ? 



is Un tbe /HMDst of Blarms, 

and charge it, as before, to Professor Renmark, 
room 518. Yes ; and then " 

" And then there came the opening in Uni- 
versity College, Toronto. I had the good for- 
tune to be appointed. There I am still, and 
there I suppose I shall stay. I know very few 
people, and am better acquainted with books 
than with men. Those whom I have the privi- 
lege of knowing are mostly studious persons, 
who have made, or will make, their mark in the 
world of learning. I have not had your ad- 
vantage, of meeting statesmen who guide the 
destinies of a great empire." 

" No ; you always were lucky, Stilly. My 
experience is that the chaps who do the guid- 
ing are more anxious about their own pockets, 
or their own political advancement, than they 
are of the destinies. Still, the empire seems 
to take its course westward just the same. So 
old Scragrnore's been your friend, has he ? " 

" He has, indeed." 

" Well, he insulted me only the other day." 

" You astonish me. I cannot imagine so 
gentlemanly and scholarly a man as Principal 
Scragmore insulting anybody." 

" Oh, you don't know him as I do. It was 
like this : I wanted to find out where you were, 
for reasons that I shall state hereafter. I cudg- 
eled my brains, and then thought of old Scrag. 
I wrote him, and inclosed a stamped and ad- 
dressed envelope, as all unsought contributors 

should do. He answered But I have his 

reply somewhere. You shall read it for yourself." 

Yates pulled from his inside pocket a bundle 
of letters, which he hurriedly fingered over, 
commenting in a low voice as he did so : "I 
thought I answered that. Still, no matter. 
Jingo ! haven't I paid that bill yet ? This pass is 
run out. Must get another." Then he smiled 
and sighed as he looked at a letter in dainty 



1fn tbe flhitet of Blavms, 19 

handwriting ; but apparently he could not find 
the document he sought. 

" Oh, well, it doesn't matter. I have it some- 
where. He returned me the prepaid envelope, 
and reminded me that United States stamps 
were of no use in Canada, which of course I 
should have remembered. But he didn't pay 
the postage on his own letter, so that I had to 
fork out double. Still, I don't mind that, only 
as an indication of his meanness. He went on 
to say that, of all the members of our class, you 
you ! were the only one who had reflected 
credit on it. That was the insult. The idea 
of his making such a statement, when I had 
told him I was on the New York Argus! 
Credit to the class, indeed ! I wonder if he 
ever heard of Brown after he was expelled. 
You know, of course. No ? Well, Brown, by 
his own exertions, became president of the Alum 
Bank in New York, wrecked it, and got off to 
Canada with a clear half million. Yes, sir. I 
saw him in Quebec not six months ago. Keeps 
the finest span and carriage in the city, and 
lives in a palace. Could buy out old Scragmore 
a thousand times, and never feel it. Most 
liberal contributor to the cause of education 
that there is in Canada. He says education 
made him, and he's not a man to go back on 
education. And yet Scragmore has the cheek 
to say that you were the only man in the class 
who reflects credit on it ! " 

The professor smiled quietly as the excited 
journalist took a cooling sip of the cobbler. 

" You see, Yates, people's opinions differ. A 
man like Brown may not be Principal Scrag- 
more's ideal. The principal may be local in 
his ideals of a successful man, or of one who 
reflects credit on his teaching." 

" Local ? You bet he's local. Too darned 
local for me. It would do that man good to 



20 Un tbe .fl&fost of Blarms, 

live in New York for a year. But I'm going to 
get even with him. I'm going to write him up. 
I'll give him a column and a half ; see if I don't. 
I'll get his photograph, and publish a news- 
paper portrait of him. If that doesn't make 
him quake, he's a cast-iron man. Say, you 
haven't a photograph of old Scrag that you can 
lend me, have you ? " 

" I have ; but I won't lend it for such a pur- 
pose. However, never mind the principal. 
Tell me your plans. I am at your disposal for 
a couple of weeks, or longer if necessary." 

" Good boy ! Well, I'll tell you how it is. I 
want rest and quiet, and the woods, for a week 
or two. This is how it happened : I have 
been steadily at the grindstone, except for a 
while in the hospital ; and that, you will admit, 
is not much of a vacation. The work interests 
me, and I am always in the thick of it. Now, 
it's like this in the newspaper business : Your 
chief is never the person to suggest that you 
take a vacation. He is usually short of men 
and long on things to do, so if you don't worry 
him into letting you off, he won't lose any sleep 
over it. He's content to let well enough alone 
every time. Then there is always somebody 
who wants to get away on pressing business, 
grandmother's funeral, and that sort of thing, 
so if a fellow is content to work right along, his 
chief is quite content to let him. That's the 
way affairs have gone for years with me. The 
other week I went over to Washington to inter- 
view a senator on the political prospects. I 
tell you what it is, Stilly, without bragging, 
there are some big men in the States whom no 
one but me can interview. And yet old Scrag 
says I'm no credit to his class ! Why, last year 
my political predictions were telegraphed all over 
this country, and have since appeared in the 
European press. No credit ! By Jove, I would 



1Fn tbe flfctost of Blarms, 21 

like to have old Scrag in a twenty-four-foot ring, 
with thin gloves on, for about ten minutes ! " 

" I doubt if he would shine under those cir- 
cumstances. But never mind him. He spoke, 
for once, without due reflection, and with per- 
haps an exaggerated remembrance of your 
school-day offenses. What happened when you 
went to Washington ? " 

" A strange thing happened. When I was 
admitted to the senator's library, I saw another 
fellow, whom I thought I knew, sitting there. 
I said to the senator : * I will come when you 
are alone.' The senator looked up in surprise, 
and said : ' I am alone.' I didn't say anything, 
but went on with my interview ; and the other 
fellow took notes all the time. I didn't like 
this, but said nothing, for the senator is not a 
man to offend, and it is by not offending these 
fellows that I can get the information I do. 
Well, the other fellow came out with me, and 
as I looked at him I saw that he was myself. 
This did not strike me as strange at the time, 
but I argued with him all the way to New York, 
and tried to show him that he wasn't treating 
me fairly. I wrote up the interview, with the 
other fellow interfering all the while, so I com- 
promised, and half the time put in what he sug- 
gested, and half the time what I wanted in myself. 
When the political editor went over the stuff, 
he looked alarmed. I told him frankly just how 
I had been interfered with, and he looked none 
the less alarmed when I had finished. He sent 
at once for a doctor. The doctor metaphor- 
ically took me to pieces, and then said to my 
chief : ' This man is simply worked to death. 
He must have a vacation, and a real one, with 
absolutely nothing to think of, or he is going to 
collapse, and that with a suddenness which will 
surprise everybody.' The chief, to my aston- 
ishment, consented without a murmur, and 



22 ifn tbe Ohitet of Alarms. 

even upbraided me for not going away sooner. 
Then the doctor said to me : ' You get some 
companion some man with no brains, if pos- 
sible, who will not discuss politics, who has no 
opinion on anything that any sane man would 
care to talk about, and who couldn't say a 
bright thing if he tried for a year. Get such a 
man to go off to the woods somewhere. Up in 
Maine or in Canada. As far away from post 
offices and telegraph offices as possible. And, 
by the way, don't leave your address at the 
Argus office.' Thus it happened, Stilly, when 
he described this man so graphically, I at once 
thought of you." 

" I am deeply gratified, I am sure," said the 
professor, with the ghost of a smile, " to be so 
promptly remembered in such a connection, 
and if I can be of service to you, I shall be very 
glad. I take it, then, that you have no intention 
of stopping in Buffalo ? " 

"You bet I haven't. I'm in for the forest 
primeval, the murmuring pines and the hem- 
lock, bearded with moss and green in the some- 
thing or other I forget the rest. I want to 
quit lying on paper, and lie on my back instead, 
on the sward or in a hammock. I'm going to 
avoid all boarding houses or delightful summer 
resorts, and go in for the quiet of the forest." 

" There ought to be some nice places along 
the lake shore." 

" No, sir. No lake shore for me. It would 
remind me of the Lake Shore Railroad when it 
was calm, and of Long Branch when it was 
rough. No, sir. The woods, the woods, and 
the woods. I have hired a tent and a lot of 
cooking things. I'm going to take that tent 
over to Canada to-morrow ; and then I propose 
we engage a man with a team to cart it some- 
where into the woods, fifteen or twenty miles 
away. We shall have to be near a farmhouse, 



ffn tbe /ilMDst of Blarme, 23 

so that we can get fresh butter, milk, and eggs. 
This, of course, is a disadvantage ; but I shall 
try to get near someone who has never even 
heard of New York." 

" You may find that somewhat difficult." 

" Oh, I don't know. I have great hopes of 
the lack of intelligence in the Canadians." 

" Often the narrowest," said the professor 
slowly, " are those who think themselves the 
most cosmopolitan." 

" Right you are," cried Yates, skimming 
lightly over the remark, and seeing nothing 
applicable to his case in it. " Well, I've laid in 
about half a ton, more or less, of tobacco, and 
have bought an empty jug." 

" An empty one ? " 

" Yes. Among the few things worth having 
that the Canadians possess, is good whisky. 
Besides, the empty jar will save trouble at the 
customhouse. I don't suppose Canadian rye 
is as good as the Kentucky article, but you and 
I will have to scrub along on it for a while. 
And, talking of whisky, just press the button 
once again." 

The professor did so, saying : 

" The doctor made no remark, I suppose, 
about drinking less or smoking less, did he? " 

" In my case ? Well, come to think of it, 
there was some conversation in that direction. 
Don't remember at the moment just what it 
amounted to ; but all physicians have their little 
fads, you know. It doesn't do to humor them 
too much. Ah, boy, there you are again. 
Well, the professor wants another drink. Make 
it a gin fizz this time, and put plenty of ice in 
it ; but don't neglect the gin on that account. 
Certainly; charge it to room 518." 



CHAPTER III. 

" WHAT'S all this tackle ? " asked the burly 
and somewhat red-faced customs officer at Fort 
Erie. 

" This," said Yates, " is a tent, with the poles 
and pegs appertaining thereto. These are a 
number of packages of tobacco, on which I 
shall doubtless have to pay something into the 
exchequer of her Majesty. This is a jug used 
for the holding of liquids. I beg to call your 
attention to the fact that it is at present empty, 
which unfortunately prevents me making a liba- 
tion to the rites of good-fellowship. What my 
friend has in that valise I don't know, but I 
suspect a gambling outfit, and would advise you 
to search him." 

" My valise contains books principally, with 
some articles of wearing apparel," said the pro- 
fessor, opening his grip. 

The customs officer looked with suspicion on 
the whole outfit, and evidently did not like the 
tone of the American. He seemed to be treat- 
ing the customs department in a light and airy 
manner, and the officer was too much impressed 
by the dignity of his position not to resent flip- 
pancy. Besides, there were rumors of Fenian 
invasion in the air, and the officer resolved that 
no Fenian should get into the country without 
paying duty. 

" Where are you going with this tent ? " 

"I'm sure I don't know. Perhaps you can 
tell us. I don't know the country about here. 



1Fn tbe /OMDst of Blarma. 25 

Say, Stilly, I'm off uptown to attend to the 
emptiness in this stone utensil. I've been 
empty too often myself not to sympathize with 
its condition. You wrestle this matter out 
about the tent. You know the ways of the 
country, whereas I don't." 

It was perhaps as well that Yates left negotia- 
tions in the hands of his friend. He was quick 
enough to see that he made no headway with 
the officer, but rather the opposite. He slung 
the jar ostentatiously over his shoulder, to the 
evident discomfort of the professor, and 
marched up the hill to the nearest tavern, 
whistling one of the lately popular war tunes. 

" Now," he said to the barkeeper, placing 
the jar tenderly on the bar, "fill that up to the 
nozzle with the best rye you have. Fill it with 
the old familiar juice, as the late poet Omar 
saith." 

The bartender did as he was requested. 

" Can you disguise a little of that fluid in any 
way, so that it may be taken internally without 
a man suspecting what he is swallowing? " 

The barkeeper smiled. "How would a 
cocktail fill the vacancy? " 

" I can suggest nothing better," replied 
Yates. " If you are sure you know how to 
make it." 

The man did not resent this imputation of 
ignorance. He merely said, with the air of 
one who gives an incontrovertible answer : 

" I am a Kentucky man myself." 

" Shake! " cried Yates briefly, as he reached 
his hand across the bar. " How is it you hap- 
pen to be here? " 

" Well, I got into a little trouble in Louisville, 
and here I am, where I can at least look at 
God's country." 

" Hold on," protested Yates. " You're mak- 
ing only one cocktail." 



26 ifn tbe /BMfcst of Blarme. 

" Didn't you say one ? " asked the man, 
pausing in the compounding. 

" Bless you, I never saw one cocktail made 
in my life. You are with me on this." 

"Just as you say," replied the other, as he 
prepared enough for two. 

" Now I'll tell you my fix," said Yates con- 
fidentially. "I've got a tent and some camp 
things down below at the customhouse shanty, 
and I want to get them taken into the woods, 
where I can camp out with a friend. I want 
a place where we can have absolute rest and 
quiet. Do you know the country round here ? 
Perhaps you could recommend a spot." 

" Well, for all the time I've been here, I know 
precious little about the back countiy. I've 
been down the road to Niagara Falls, but never 
back in the woods. I suppose you want some 
place by the lake or the river? " 

" No, I don't. I want to get clear back into 
the forest if there is a forest." 

" Well, there's a man in to-day from some- 
where near Ridgeway, I think. He's got a hay 
rack with him, and that would be just the thing 
to take your tent and poles. Wouldn't be very 
comfortable traveling for you, but it would be 
all right for the tent, if it's a big one." 

" That will suit us exactly. We don't care a 
cent about the comfort. Roughing it is what 
we came for. Where will I find him ? " 

" Oh, he'll be along here soon. That's his 
team tied there on the side street. If he hap- 
pens to be in good humor, he'll take your 
things, and as like as not give you a place to 
camp in his woods. Hiram Bartlett's his name. 
And, talking of the old Nick himself, here he is. 
I say, Mr. Bartlett, this gentleman was wonder- 
ing if you couldn't tote out some of his belong- 
ings. He's going out your way." 

Bartlett was a somewhat uncouth and wiry 



lfn tbe /HM&st of Blarm0, 27 

specimen of the Canadian farmer who evidently 
paid little attention to the subject of dress. He 
said nothing, but looked in a lowering way at 
Yates, with something of contempt and sus- 
picion in his glance. 

Yates had one receipt for making the ac- 
quaintance of all ma'nkind. " Come in, Mr. 
Bartlett," he said cheerily, " and try one of my 
friend's excellent cocktails." 

" I take mine straight," growled Bartlett 
gruffly, although he stepped inside the open 
door. " I don't want no Yankee mixtures in 
mine. Plain whisky's good enough for any 
man, if he is a man. I don't take no water, 
neither. I've got trouble enough." 

The bartender winked at Yates as he shoved 
the decanter over to the newcomer. 

" Right you are," assented Yates cordially. 

The farmer did not thaw out in the least be- 
cause of this prompt agreement with him, but 
sipped his whisky gloomily, as if it were a most 
disagreeable medicine. 

" What did you want me to take out ? " he 
said at last. 

" A friend and a tent, a jug of whisky and a 
lot of jolly good tobacco." 

" How much are you willing to pay ? " 

" Oh, I don't know. I'm always willing to do 
what's right. How would five dollars strike 
you ? " 

The farmer scowled and shook his head. 

" Too much," he said, as Yates was about to 
offer more. " 'Taint worth it. Two and a half 
would be about the right figure. Don'no but 
that's too much. I'll think on it going home, 
and charge you what it's worth. I'll be ready 
to leave in about an hour, if that suits you. 
That's my team on the other side of the road. 
If it's gone when you come back, I'm gone, an' 
you'll have to get somebody else," 



28 ifn tbe /EMfcst ot 2llarm0* 

With this Bartlettdrew his coat sleeve across 
his mouth and departed. 

"That's him exactly," said the barkeeper. 
" He's the most cantankerous crank in the 
township. And say, let me give you a pointer. 
If the subject of 1812 comes up, the war, you 
know, you'd better admit that we got thrashed 
out of our boots ; that is, if you want to get 
along with Hiram. He hates Yankees like 
poison." 

" And did we get thrashed in 1812 ?" asked 
Yates, who was more familiar with current 
topics than with the history of the past. 

" Blessed if I know. Hiram says we did. I 
told him once that we got what we wanted 
from old England, and he nearly hauled me 
over the bar. So I give you the warning, if 
you want to get along with him." 

"Thank you. I'll remember it. So long." 

This friendly hint from the man in the tavern 
offers a key to the solution of the problem of 
Yates' success on the New York press. He 
could get news when no other man could. 
Flippant and shallow as he undoubtedly was, 
he somehow got into the inner confidences of 
all sorts of men in a way that made them give 
him an inkling of anything that was going on 
for the mere love of him ; and thus Yates often 
received valuable assistance from his acquaint- 
ances which other reporters could not get for 
money. 

The New Yorker found the professor sitting 
on a bench by the customhouse, chatting with 
the officer, and gazing at the rapidly flowing 
broad blue river in front of them. 

" I have got a man," said Yates, "who will 
take us out into the wilderness in about an 
hour's time. Suppose we explore the town. I 
expect nobody will run away with the tent till 
we come back." 



In tbe /RMDst of Blarms, 29 

" I'll look after that," said the officer ; and, 
thanking him, the two friends strolled up the 
street. They were a trifle late in getting back, 
and when they reached the tavern, they found 
Bartlett just on the point of driving home. He 
gruffly consented to take them, if they did not 
keep him more than live minutes loading up. 
The tent and its belongings were speedily 
placed on the hay rack, and then Bartlett drove 
up to the tavern and waited, saying nothing, al- 
though he had been in such a hurry a few 
moments before. Yates did not like to ask the 
cause of the delay ; so the three sat there 
silently. After a while Yates said as mildly as 
he could : 

" Are you waiting for anyone, Mr. Bartlett ? " 

" Yes," answered the driver in a surly tone. 
" I'm waiting for you to go in fur that jug. I 
don't suppose you rilled it to leave it on the 
counter." 

" By Jove ! " cried Yates, springing off, " I 
had forgotten all about it, which shows the ex- 
traordinary effect this country has on me 
already." The professor frowned, but Yates 
came out merrily, with the jar in his hand, and 
Bartlett started his team. They drove out of 
the village and up a slight hill, going for a 
mile or two along a straight and somewhat 
sandy road. Then they turned into the Ridge 
Road, as Bartlett called it, in answer to a ques- 
tion by the professor, and there was no need to 
ask why it was so termed. It was a good high- 
way, but rather stony, the road being, in places, 
on the bare rock. It paid not the slightest 
attention to Euclid's definition of a straight 
line, and in this respect was rather a welcome 
change from the average American road. Some- 
times they passed along avenues of overbranch- 
ing trees, which were evidently relics of the 
forest that once covered all the district. The 



30 1fn tbe flfctoet of Blarms. 

road followed the ridge, and on each side were 
frequently to be seen wide vistas of lower lying 
country. All along the road were comfortable 
farmhouses ; and it was evident that a prosper- 
ous community flourished along the ridge. 

Bartlett spoke only once, and then to the 
professor, who sat next to him. 

" You a Canadian ? " 

" Yes." 

" Where's he from ? " 

" My friend is from New York," answered the 
innocent professor. 

" Humph ! " grunted Bartlett, scowling 
deeper than ever, after which he became silent 
again. The team was not going very fast, 
although neither the load nor the road was 
heavy. Bartlett was muttering a good deal to 
himself, and now and then brought down his 
whip savagely on one or the other of the horses ; 
but the moment the unfortunate animals quick- 
ened their pace he hauled them in roughly. 
Nevertheless, they were going quickly enough to 
be overtaking a young woman who was walking 
on alone. Although she must have heard them 
coming over the rocky road she did not turn 
her head, but walked along with the free and 
springy step of one who is not only accustomed 
to walking, but who likes it. Bartlett paid no 
attention to the girl ; tl\e professor was en- 
deavoring to read his thin book as well as a 
man might who is being jolted frequently ; but 
Yates, as soon as he recognized that the pedes- 
trian was young, pulled up his collar, adjusted 
his necktie with care, and placed his hat in a 
somewhat more jaunty and fetching position. 

" Are you going to offer that girl a ride ? " he 
said to Bartlett. 

" No, I'm not." 

" I think that is rather uncivil," he added, 
forgetting the warning he had had. 



flit tbe dlMfcst of Blarms, 31 

"You do, eh? Well, you offer her a ride. 
You hired the team." 

" By Jove ! I will," said Yates, placing his hand 
on the outside of the rack, and springing lightly 
to the ground. 

" Likely thing," growled Bartlett to the pro- 
fessor, " that she's going to ride with the like of 
him." 

The professor looked for a moment at Yates, 
politely taking off his hat to the apparently 
astonished young woman, but he said nothing. 

" Fur two cents," continued Bartlett, gather- 
ing up the reins, " I'd whip up the horses, and 
let him walk the rest of the way." 

" From what I know of my friend," answered 
the professor slowly, " I think he would not 
object in the slightest." 

Bartlett muttered something to himself, and 
seemed to change his mind about galloping his 
horses. 

Meanwhile, Yates, as has been said, took off 
his hat with great politeness to the fair pedes- 
trian, and as he did so he noticed, with a thrill 
of admiration, that she was very handsome. 
Yates always had an eye for the beautiful. 

" Our conveyance," he began, " is not as 
comfortable as it might be, yet I shall be very 
happy if you will accept its hospitalities." 

The young woman flashed a brief glance at 
him from her dark eyes, and for a moment 
Yates feared that his language had been rather 
too choice for her rural understanding, but 
before he could amend his phrase she answered 
briefly : 

" Thank you. I prefer to walk." 

"Well, I don't know that I blame you. May 
I ask if you have come all the way from the 
village ? " 

14 Yes." 

" That is a long distance, and you must be 



32 f n tbc flfofost of Blarms, 

very tired." There was no reply ; so Yates 
continued. " At least, I thought it a long dis- 
tance ; but perhaps that was because I was 
riding on Bartlett's hay rack. There is no 
' downy bed of ease ' about his vehicle." 

As he spoke of the wagon he looked at it, 
and, striding forward to its side, said in a husky 
whisper to the professor : 

" Say, Stilly, cover up that jug with a flap of 
the tent." 

" Cover it up yourself," briefly replied the 
other ; " it isn't mine." 

Yates reached across and, in a sort of acci- 
dental way, threw the flap of the tent over the 
too conspicuous jar. As an excuse for his 
action he took up his walking cane and turned 
toward his new acquaintance. He was flattered 
to see that she was loitering some distance 
behind the wagon, and he speedily rejoined her. 
The girl, looking straight ahead, now quickened 
her pace, and rapidly shortened the distance 
between herself and the vehicle. Yates, with 
the quickness characteristic of him, made up 
his mind that this was a case of country 
diffidence, which was best to be met by the 
bringing down of his conversation to the level 
of his hearer's intelligence. 

" Have you been marketing? " he asked. 

" Yes." 

" Butter and eggs, and that sort of thing ? " 

" We are farmers," she answered, " and we 
sell butter and eggs " a pause " and that 
sort of thing. " 

Yates laughed in his light and cheery way. 
As he twirled his cane he looked at his pretty 
companion. She was gazing anxiously ahead 
toward a turn in the road. Her comely face 
was slightly flushed, doubtless with the exercise 
of walking. 

" Now, in my country," continued the New 



1Tn tbe .fllMDst of Alarms. 33 

Yorker, " we idolize our women. Pretty girls 
don't tramp miles to market with butter and 
eggs." 

" Aren't the girls pretty in your country?" 

Yates made a mental note that there was not 
as much rurality about this girl as he had 
thought at first. There was a piquancy about 
the conversation which he liked. That she 
shared his enjoyment was doubtful, for a slight 
line of resentment was noticeable on her smooth 
brow. 

" You bet they're pretty ! I think all 
American girls are pretty. It seems their birth- 
right. When I say American, I mean the 
whole continent, of course. I'm from the 
States myself from New York." He gave an 
extra twirl to his cane as he said this, and bore 
himself with that air of conscious superiority 
which naturally pertains to a citizen of the 
metropolis. " But over in the States we think 
the men should do all the work, and that the 
women should well, spend the money. I 
must do our ladies the justice to say that they 
attend strictly to their share of the arrange- 
ment." 

"It should be a delightful country to live 
in for the women." 

" They all say so. We used to have an 
adage to the effect that America was paradise 
for women, purgatory for men, and well, an 
entirely different sort of place for oxen." 

There was no doubt that Yates had a way 
of getting along with people. As he looked 
at his companion he was gratified to note just 
the faintest suspicion of a smile hovering about 
her lips. Before she could answer, if she had 
intended to do so, there was a quick clatter of 
hoofs on the hard road ahead, and next instant 
an elegant buggy, whose slender jet-black 
polished spokes flashed and twinkled in the 



34 1fn tbe fllMfcet of Blarma. 

sunlight, came dashing past the wagon. On 
seeing the two walking together the driver 
hauled up his team with a suddenness that 
was evidently not relished by the spirited 
dappled span he drove. 

" Hello, Margaret ! " he cried ; " am I late ? 
Have you walked in all the way ? " 

" You are just in good time," answered the 
girl, without looking toward Yates, who stood 
aimlessly twirling his cane. The young woman 
put her foot on the buggy step, and sprang 
lightly in beside the driver. It needed no 
second glance to see that he was her brother, 
not only on account of the family resemblance 
between them, but also because he allowed her 
to get into the buggy without offering the 
slightest assistance, which, indeed, was not 
needed, and graciously permitted her to place 
the duster that covered his knees over her own 
lap as well. The restive team trotted rapidly 
down the road for a few rods, until they came 
to a wide place in the highway, and then 
whirled around, seemingly within an ace of up- 
setting the buggy ; but the young man evidently 
knew his business, and held them in with a 
firm hand. The wagon was jogging along 
where the road was very narrow, and Bartlett 
kept his team stolidly in the center of the way. 

" Hello, there, Bartlett ! " shouted the young 
man in the buggy ; " half the road, you know 
half the road." 

" Take it," cried Bartlett over his shoulder. 

" Come, come, Bartlett, get out of the way, 
or I'll run you down." 

"You just try it." 

Bartlett either had no sense of humor or his 
resentment against his young neighbor smoth- 
ered it, since otherwise he would have recog- 
nized that a heavy wagon was in no danger of 
being run into by a light and expensive buggy. 



1fn tbe /Iftftet ot Blarms, 35 

The young man kept his temper admirably, but 
he knew just where to touch the elder on the 
raw. His sister's hand was placed appealingly 
on his arm. He smiled, and took no notice of 
her. 

" Come, now, you move out, or I'll have the 
law on you." 

" The law ! " roared Bartlett ; " you just try 
it on." 

" Should think you'd had enough of it by 
this time." 

"Oh, don't, don't, Henry !" -protested the 
girl in distress. 

" There aint no law," yelled Bartlett, " that 
kin make a man with a load move out fur any- 
thing." 

" You haven't any load, unless it's in that 

J u g-" 

Yates saw with consternation that the jar 
had been jolted out from under its covering, 
but the happy consolation came to him that the 
two in the buggy would believe it belonged to 
Bartlett. He thought, however, that this dog- 
in-the-manger policy had gone far enough. 
He stepped briskly forward, and said to Bart- 
lett : 

"Better drive aside a little, and let them 
pass." 

"You 'tend to your own business," cried the 
thoroughly enraged farmer. 

" I will," said Yates shortly, striding to the 
horses' heads. He took them by the bits and, 
in spite of Bartlett's maledictions and pulling 
at the lines, he drew them to one side, so that 
the buggy got by. 

" Thank you ! " cried the young man. The 
light and glittering carriage rapidly disap- 
peared up the Ridge Road. 

Bartlett sat there for one moment the pic- 
ture of baffled rage. Then he threw the reins 



36 1fn tbe .flfMDst ot Blarms. 

down on the backs of his patient horses, and 
descended. 

" You take my horses by the head, do you, 
you good-fur-nuthin' Yank ? You do, eh ? I 
like your cheek. Touch my horses an' me 
a-holdin' the lines ! Now, you hear me ? 
Your traps comes right off here on the road. 
You hear me ? " 

" Oh, anybody within a mile can hear you." 

" Kin they ? Well, off comes your pesky tent. " 

" No, it doesn't." 

" Don't it, eh ? Well, then, you'll lick me 
fust ; and that's something no Yank ever did 
nor kin do." 

" I'll do it with pleasure." 

" Come, come," cried the professor, getting 
down on the road, " this has gone far enough. 
Keep quiet, Yates. Now, Mr. Bartlett, don't 
mind it ; he meant no disrespect." 

" Don't you interfere. You're all right, an' I 
aint got nothin' ag'in you. But I'm goin' to 
' thrash this Yank within an inch of his life ; 
see if I don't. We met 'em in 1812, an' we fit 
'em an* we licked 'em, an' we can do it ag'in. 
I'll learn ye to take my horses by the head." 

" Teach," suggested Yates tantalizingly. 

Before he could properly defend himself, 
Bartlett sprang at him and grasped him round 
the waist. Yates was something of a wrestler 
himself, but his skill was of no avail on this 
occasion. Bartlett's right leg became twisted 
around his with a steel-like grip that speedily 
convinced the younger man he would have to 
give way or a bone would break. He gave way 
accordingly, and the next thing he knew he 
came down on his back with a thud that 
seemed to shake the universe. 

" There, darn ye ! " cried the triumphant 
farmer; "that's 1812 and Queenstown 
Heights for ye. How do you like 'em ? " 



1fn tbe /BM&st of Blarms. 37 

Yates rose to his feet with some deliberation, 
and slowly took off his coat. 

" Now, now, Yates," said the professor 
soothingly, " let it go at this. You're not hurt, 
are you ? " he asked anxiously, as he noticed 
how white the young man was around the lips. 

" Look here, Renmark ; you're a sensible 
man. There is a time to interfere and a time 
not to. This is the time not to. A certain 
international element seems to have crept into 
this dispute. Now, you stand aside, like a 
good fellow, for I don't want to have to thrash 
both of you." 

The professor stood aside, for he realized 
that, when Yates called him by his last name, 
matters were serious. 

" Now, old chucklehead, perhaps you would 
like to try that again." 

" I kin do it a dozen times, if ye aint satisfied. 
There aint no Yank ever raised on pumpkin 
pie that can stand ag'in that grapevine twist." 

" Try the grapevine once more." 

Bartlett proceeded more cautiously this time, 
for there was a look in the young man's face he 
did not quite like. He took a catch-as-catch- 
can attitude, and moved stealthily in a semi- 
circle around Yates, who shifted his position 
constantly so as to keep facing his foe. At 
last Bartlett sprang forward, and the next in- 
stant found himself sitting on a piece of the 
rock of the country, with a thousand humming 
birds buzzing in his head, while stars and the 
landscape around joined in a dance together. 
The blow was sudden, well placed, and from 
the shoulder. 

" That," said Yates, standing over him, " is 
1776 the Revolution when, to use your own 
phrase, we met ye, fit ye, and licked ye. 
How do you like it ? Now, if my advice is of 
any use to you, take a broader view of history 



38 ffn tbe flkitet of Blarms. 

than you have done. Don't confine yourself too 
much to one period. Study up the War of the 
Revolution a bit." 

Bartlett made no reply. After sitting there 
for a while, until the surrounding landscape as- 
sumed its normal condition, he arose leisurely, 
without saying a word. He picked the reins 
from the backs of the horses and patted the 
nearest animal gently. Then he mounted to his 
place and drove off. The professor had taken 
his seat beside the driver, but Yates, putting on 
his coat and picking up his cane, strode along 
in front, switching off the heads of Canada 
thistles with his walking stick as he proceeded. 



CHAPTER IV. 

BARTLETT was silent for a long time, but 
there was evidently something on his mind, for 
he communed with himself, his mutterings 
growing louder and louder, until they" broke the 
stillness ; then he struck the horses, pulled 
them in, and began his soliloquy over again. 
At last he said abruptly to the professor : 

" What's this Revolution he talked about ? " 

" It was the War of Independence, beginning 
in 1776." 

" Never heard of it. Did the Yanks fight 
us?" 

" The colonies fought with England." 

" What colonies ? " 

" The country now called the United States." 

" They fit with England, eh ? Which 
licked ? " 

" The colonies won their independence." 

" That means they licked us. I don't believe 
a word of it. 'Pears to me I'd 'a' heard of it ; 
fur I've lived in these parts a long time." 

" It was a little before your day." 

" So was 1812 ; but my father fit in it, an' I 
never heard him tell of this Revolution. He'd 
V known, I sh'd think. There's a nigger in 
the fence somewheres." 

" Well, England was rather busy at the time 
with the French." 

" Ah, that was it, was it ? I'll bet England 
never knew the Revolution was a-goin' on till 
it was over. Old Napoleon couldn't thrash 'em, 



40 1Fn tbe /IJMDst ot Blarms. 

and it don't stand to reason that the Yanks 
could. I thought there was some skullduggery. 
Why, it took the Yanks four years to lick them- 
selves. I got a book at home all about Napo- 
leon. He was a tough cuss." 

The professor did not feel called upon to 
defend the character of Napoleon, and so si- 
lence once more descended upon them. Bart- 
lett seemed a good deal disturbed by the news 
he had just heard of the Revolution, and he 
growled to himself, while the horses suffered 
more than usual from the whip and the hauling 
back that 'invariably followed the stroke. Yates 
was some distance ahead, and swinging along 
at a great rate, when the horses, apparently of 
their own accord, turned in at an open gateway 
and proceeded, in their usual leisurely fashion, 
toward a large barn, past a comfortable frame 
house with a wide veranda in front. 

" This is my place," said Bartlett shortly. 

" I wish you had told me a few minutes ago," 
replied the professor, springing off, " so that I 
might have called to my friend." 

" I'm not frettin' about him," said Bartlett, 
throwing the reins to a young man who came 
out of the house. 

Renmark ran to the road and shouted loudly 
to the distant Yates. Yates apparently did not 
hear him, but something about the next house 
attracted the pedestrian's attention, and after 
standing for a moment and gazing toward the 
west he looked around and saw the professor 
beckoning to him. When the two men met, 
Yates said : 

" So we have arrived, have we ? I say, Stilly, 
she lives in the next house. I saw the buggy 
in the yard." 

"She? Who?" 

41 Why, that good-looking girl we passed on 
the road. I'm going to buy our supplies at 



1[n tbe /HMfcst ot Blarms* 41 

that house, Stilly, if you have no objections. 
By the way, how is my old friend 1812 ? " 

" He doesn't seem to harbor any harsh feel- 
ings. In fact, he was more troubled about the 
Revolution than about the blow you gave him.'* 

" News to him, eh ? Well, I'm glad I 
knocked something into his head." 

"You certainly did it most unscientifically." 

" How do you mean unscientifically ? " 

" In the delivery of the blow. I never saw a 
more awkwardly delivered undercut." 

Yates looked at his friend in astonishment. 
How should this calm, learned man know any- 
thing about undercuts or science in blows ? 

" Well, you must admit I got there just the 
same." 

" Yes, by brute force. A sledge hammer 
would have done as well. But you had such 
an opportunity to do it neatly and deftly, with- 
out any display of surplus energy, that I re- 
gretted to see such an opening thrown away." 

" Heavens and earth, Stilly, this is the pro- 
fessor in a new light ! What do you teach in 
Toronto University, anyhow ? The noble art 
of self-defense ? " 

" Not exactly ; but if you intend to go 
through Canada in this belligerent manner, I 
think it would be worth your while to take a 
few hints from me." 

" With striking examples, I suppose. By 
Jove ! I will, Stilly." 

As the two came to the house they found 
Bartlett sitting in a wooden rocking chair on 
the veranda, looking grimly down the road. 

" What an old tyrant that man must be in his 
home ! " said Yates. There was no time for the 
professor to reply before they came within ear- 
shot. 

" The old woman's setting out supper," said 
the farmer gruffly, that piece of information 



42 1Tn tbe jflM&st of Blarms, 

being apparently as near as he could get to- 
ward inviting them to share his hospitality. 
Yates didn't know whether it was meant for an 
invitation or not, but he answered shortly : 

" Thanks, we won't stay." 

" Speak fur yourself, please," snarled Bartlett. 

" Of course I go with my friend," said Ren- 
mark ; " but we are obliged for the invitation." 

" Please yourselves." 

" What's that ? " cried a cheery voice from 
the inside of the house, as a stout, rosy, and 
very good-natured-looking woman appeared at 
the front door. " Won't stay ? Who won't 
stay ? I'd like to see anybody leave my house 
hungry when there's a meal on the table ! And, 
young men, if you can get a better meal any- 
where on the Ridge than what I'll give you, 
why, you're welcome to go there next time, but 
this meal you'll have here, inside of ten minutes. 
Hiram, that's your fault. You always invite a 
person to dinner as if you wanted to wrastle 
with him !" 

Hiram gave a guilty start, and looked with 
something of mute appeal at the two men, but 
said nothing. 

" Never mind him," continued Mrs. Bartlett. 
"You're at my house; and, whatever my 
neighbors may say ag'in me, I never heard any- 
body complain of the lack of good victuals while 
I was able to do the cooking. Come right in 
and wash yourselves, for the road between here 
and the fort is dusty enough, even if Hiram 
never was taken up for fast driving. Besides, a 
wash is refreshing after a hot day." 

There was no denying the cordiality of this 
invitation, and Yates, whose natural gallantry 
was at once aroused, responded with the readi- 
ness of a courtier. Mrs. Bartlett led the way 
into the house ; but as Yates passed the farmer 
the latter cleared his throat with an effort, and, 



fn tbe jfllM&st of Blarms* 43 

throwing his thumb over his shoulder in the 
direction his wife had taken, said in a husky 
whisper: 

" No call to to mention the Revolution, you 
know." 

" Certainly not," answered Yates, with a wink 
that took in the situation. " Shall we sample 
the jug before or after supper ? " 

" After, if it's all the same to you ; " adding, 
" out in the barn." 

Yates nodded, and followed his friend into 
the house. 

The young men were shown into a bedroom 
of more than ordinary size, on the upper floor. 
Everything about the house was of the most 
dainty and scrupulous cleanliness, and an air 
of cheerful comfort pervaded the place. Mrs. 
Bartlett was evidently a housekeeper to be 
proud of. Two large pitchers of cool, soft water 
awaited them, and the wash, as had been pre- 
dicted, was most refreshing. 

" I say," cried Yates, " it's rather cheeky to 
accept a man's hospitality after knocking him 
down." 

" It would be for most people, but I think you 
underestimate your cheek, as you call it." 

" Bravo, Stilly ! You're blossoming out. 
That's rapartee, that is. With the accent on 
the rap, too. Never you mind ; I think old 1812 
and I will get on all right after this. It doesn't 
seem to bother him any, so I don't see why it 
should worry me. Nice motherly old lady, 
isn't she ? " 

"Who? 1812?" 

"No; Mrs. 1812. I'm sorry I complimented 
you on your repartee. You'll get conceited. 
Remember that what in the newspaper man is 
clever, in a grave professor is rank flippancy. 
Let's go down." 

The table was covered with a cloth as white 



44 Un tbe jflfctDst of Alarms. 

and spotless as good linen can well be. The 
bread was genuine homemade, a term so often 
misused in the cities. It was brown as to 
crust, and flaky and light as to interior. The 
butter, cool from the rock cellar, was of a re- 
freshing yellow hue. The sight of the well- 
loaded table was most welcome to the eyes of 
hungry travelers. There was, as Yates after- 
ward remarked, " abundance, and plenty of it." 

" Come, father! " cried Mrs. Bartlett, as the 
young men appeared ; they heard the rocking 
chair creak on the veranda in prompt answer 
to the summons. 

" This is my son, gentlemen," said Mrs. Bart- 
lett, indicating the young man who stood in a 
noncommittal attitude near a corner of the room. 
The professor recognized him as the person who 
had taken charge of the horses when his father 
came home. There was evidently something 
of his father's demeanor about the young man, 
who awkwardly and silently responded to the 
recognition of the strangers. 

" And this is my daughter," continued the 
good woman. " Now, what might your names 
be ? " 

" My name is Yates, and this is my friend 
Professor Renmark of T'ronto," pronouncing 
the name of the fair city in two syllables, as is, 
alas ! too often done. The professor bowed, 
and Yates cordially extended his hand to the 
young woman. " How do you do, Miss Bart- 
lett ? " he said, " I am happy to meet you." 

The girl smiled very prettily, and said she 
hoped they had a pleasant trip out from Fort 
Erie. 

" Oh, we had," said Yates, looking for a mo- 
ment at his host, whose eyes were fixed on the 
tablecloth, and who appeared to be quite con- 
tent to let his wife run the show. " The road's 
a little rocky in places, but it's very pleasant." 



1Fn tbe tflMtet of Blarms, 45 

" Now, you sit down here, and you here," said 
Mrs. Bartlett ; " and I do hope you have 
brought good appetites with you." 

The strangers took their places, and Yates 
had a chance to look at the younger member of 
the family, which opportunity he did not let slip. 
It was hard to believe that she was the daughter 
of so crusty a man as Hiram Bartlett. Her 
cheeks were rosy, with dimples in them that 
constantly came and went in her incessant 
efforts to keep from laughing. Her hair, which 
hung about her plump shoulders, was a lovely 
golden brown. Although her dress was of the 
cheapest material, it was neatly cut and fitted ; 
and her dainty white apron added that touch of 
wholesome cleanliness which was so noticeable 
everywhere in the house. A bit of blue ribbon 
at her white throat, and a pretty spring flower 
just below it, completed a charming picture, 
which a more critical and less susceptible man 
than Yates might have contemplated with 
pleasure. 

Miss Bartlett sat smilingly at one end of the 
table, and her father grimly at the other. The 
mother sat at the side, apparently looking on 
that position as one of vantage for command- 
ing the whole field, and keeping her husband 
and her daughter both under her eye. The 
teapot and cups were set before the young 
woman. She did not pour out the tea at once, 
but seemed to be waiting instructions from her 
mother. That good lady was gazing with 
some sternness at her husband, he vainly 
endeavoring to look at the ceiling or anywhere 
but at her. He drew his open hand nervously 
down his face, which was of unusual gravity 
even for him. Finally he cast an appealing 
glance at his wife, who sat with her hands 
folded on her lap, but her eyes were unrelent- 
ing. After a moment's hopeless irresolution 



46 1fn tbe /DMDst of Blarms. 

Bartlett bent his head over his plate and mur- 
mured : 

" For what we are about to receive, oh, make 
us truly thankful. Amen." 

Mrs. Bartlett echoed the last word, having 
also bowed her head when she saw surrender 
in the troubled eyes of her husband. 

Now, it happened that Yates, who had seen 
nothing of this silent struggle of the eyes, being 
exceedingly hungry, was making every prepara- 
tion for the energetic beginning of the meal. 
He had spent most of his life in hotels and 
New York boarding houses, so that if he ever 
knew the adage, " Grace before meat," he had 
forgotten it. In the midst of his preparations 
came the devout words, and they came upon 
him as a stupefying surprise. Although 
naturally a resourceful man, he was not quick 
enough this time to cover his confusion. Miss 
Bartlett's golden head was bowed, but out of 
the corner of her eye she saw Yates' look of 
amazed bewilderment and his sudden halt of 
surprise. When all heads were raised, the 
young girl's still remained where it was, while 
her plump shoulders quivered. Then she 
covered her face with her apron, and the silvery 
ripple of a laugh came like a smothered musical 
chime trickling through her fingers. 

" Why, Kitty ! " cried her mother in as- 
tonishment, " whatever is the matter with 
you ? " 

The girl could no longer restrain her mirth. 
"You'll have to pour out the tea, mother! " she 
exclaimed, as she fled from the room. 

" For the land's sake ! " cried the astonished 
mother, rising to take her frivolous daughter's 
place, "what ails the child? I don't see what 
there is to laugh at." 

Hiram scowled down the table, and was evi- 
dently also of the opinion that there was no 



1fn tbe /HM&st of Blarms* 47 

occasion for mirth. The professor was equally 
in the dark. 

" I am afraid, Mrs. Bartlett," said Yates, 
"that I am the innocent cause of Miss Kitty's 
mirth. You see, madam it's a pathetic thing 
to say, but really I have had no home life. 
Although I attend church regularly, of course," 
he added with jaunty mendacity, " I must con- 
fess that I haven't heard grace at meals for 
years and years, and well, I wasn't just pre- 
pared for it. I have no doubt I made an ex- 
hibition of myself, which your daughter was 
quick to see." 

" It wasn't very polite," said Mrs. Bartlett 
with some asperity. 

" I know that," pleaded Yates with contrition, 
" but I assure you it was unintentional on my 
part." 

"Bless the man!" cried his hostess. "I 
don't mean you. I mean Kitty. But that girl 
never could keep her face straight. She always 
favored me more than her father." 

This statement was not difficult to believe, 
for Hiram at that moment looked as if he had 
never smiled in his life. He sat silent through- 
out the meal, but Mrs. Bartlett talked quite 
enough for two. 

" Well, for my part," she said, " I don't know 
what farming's coming to ! Henry Howard 
and Margaret drove past here this afternoon 
as proud as Punch in their new covered buggy. 
Things is very different from what they was 
when I was a girl. Then a farmer's daughter 
had to work. Now Margaret's took her diploma 
at the ladies' college, and Arthur he's begun at 
the university, and Henry's sporting round in 
a new buggy. They have a piano there, with 
the organ moved out into the back room." 

" The whole Howard lot's a stuck-up set," 
muttered the farmer. 



48 lfn tbe /BM&st of Blarms. 

But Mrs. Bartlett wouldn't have that. Any 
detraction that was necessary she felt com- 
petent to supply, without help from the nominal 
head of the house. 

" No, I don't go so far as to say that. Neither 
would you, Hiram, if you hadn't lost your law- 
suit about the line fence ; and served you right, 
too, for it wouldn't have been begun if I had 
been at home at the time. Not but what Mar- 
garet's a good housekeeper, for she wouldn't be 
her mother's daughter if she wasn't that ; but 
it does seem to me a queer way to raise farmers' 
children, and I only hope they can keep it up. 
There were no pianos nor French and German 
in my young days." 

" You ought to hear her play! My lands!" 
cried young Bartlett, who spoke for the first 
time. His admiration for her accomplishment 
evidently went beyond his powers of expression. 

Bartlett himself did not relish the turn the 
conversation had taken, and he looked some- 
what uneasily at the two strangers. The pro- 
fessor's countenance was open and frank, and 
he was listening with respectful interest to Mrs. 
Bartlett's talk. Yates bent over his plate with 
flushed face, and confined himself strictly to the 
business in hand. 

" I am glad," said the professor innocently to 
Yates, " that you made the young lady's ac- 
quaintance. I must ask you for an introduc- 
tion." 

For once in his life Yates had nothing to say, 
but he looked at his friend with an expression 
- that was not kindly. The latter, in answer to 
Mrs. Bartlett's inquiries, told how they had 
passed Miss Howard on the road, and how 
Yates, with his usual kindness of heart, had 
offered the young woman the hospitalities of the 
hay rack. Two persons at the table were much 
relieved when the talk turned to the tent. It 



1fn tbe /BM&st of Blarms, 49 

was young Hiram who brought about this boon. 
He was interested in the tent, and he wanted to 
know. Two things seemed to bother the boy : 
First, he was anxious to learn what diabolical 
cause had been at work to induce two appar- 
ently sane men to give up the comforts of home 
and live in this exposed manner, if they were not 
compelled to do so. Second, he desired to find 
out why people who had the privilege of living 
in large cities came of their own accord into the 
uninteresting country, anyhow. Even when ex- 
planations were offered, the problem seemed 
still beyond him. 

After the meal they all adjourned to the ver- 
anda, where the air was cool and the view 
extensive. Mrs. Bartlett would not hear of the 
young men pitching the tent that night. 

" Goodness knows, you will have enough of it, 
with the rain and the mosquitoes. We have plenty 
of room here, and you will have one comfortable 
night on the Ridge, at any rate. Then in the 
morning you can find a place in the woods to 
suit you, and my boy will take an ax and cut 
stakes for you, and help to put up your precious 
tent. Only remember that when it rains you 
are to come to the house, or you will catch your 
deaths with cold and rheumatism, It will be 
very nice till the novelty wears off ; then you 
are quite welcome to the front rooms upstairs, 
and Hiram can take the tent back to Erie the 
first time he goes to town." 

Mrs. Bartlett had a way of taking things for 
granted. It never seemed to occur to her that 
any of her rulings might be questioned. Hiram 
sat gazing silently at the road, as if all this was 
no affair of his. 

Yates had refused a chair, and sat on the 
edge of the veranda, with his back against one 
of the pillars, in such a position that he might, 
without turning his head, look through the 



50 1Tn tbe jflM&st of Blarms. 

open doorway into the room where Miss Bart- 
lett was busily but silently clearing away the 
tea things. The young man caught fleeting 
glimpses of her as she moved airily about her 
work. He drew a cigar from his case, cut off 
the end with his knife, and lit a match on the 
sole of his boot, doing this with an easy auto- 
matic familiarity that required no attention on 
his part ; all of which aroused the respectful 
envy of young Hiram, who sat on a wooden 
chair, leaning forward, eagerly watching the 
man from New York. 

"Have a cigar?" said Yates, offering the 
case to young Hiram. 

" No, no ; thank you," gasped the boy, aghast 
at the reckless audacity of the proposal. 

" What's that ? " cried Mrs. Bartlett. Al- 
though she was talking volubly to the professor, 
her maternal vigilance never even nodded, much 
less slept. " A cigar ? Not likely ! I'll say 
this for my husband and my boy : that, what- 
ever else they may have done, they have never 
smoked nor touched a drop of liquor since I've 
known them, and, please God, they never will." 

" Oh, I guess it wouldn't hurt them," said 
Yates, with a lack of tact that was not habitual. 
He fell several degrees in the estimation of his 
hostess. 

" Hurt 'em ? " cried Mrs. Bartlett indig- 
nantly. " I guess it won't get a chance to." 
She turned to the professor, who was a good 
listener respectful and deferential, with little 
to say for himself. She rocked gently to and 
fro as she talked. 

Her husband sat unbendingly silent, in a 
sphinxlike attitude that gave no outward indica- 
tion of his mental uneasiness. He was thinking 
gloomily that it would be just his luck to meet 
Mrs. Bartlett unexpectedly in the streets of 
Fort Erie on one of those rare occasions when 



1fn tbe jfllMDst of Blarms, 51 

he was enjoying the pleasures of sin for a sea- 
son. He had the most pessimistic forebod- 
ings of what the future might have in store for 
him. Sometimes, when neighbors or customers 
" treated " him in the village, and he felt he 
had taken all the whisky that cloves would con- 
ceal, he took a five-cent cigar instead of a drink. 
He did not particularly like the smoking of it, 
but there was a certain devil-may-care reckless- 
ness in going down the street with a lighted 
cigar in his teeth, which had all the more fasci- 
nation for him because of its manifest danger. 
He felt at these times that he was going the 
pace, and that it is well our women do not know 
of all the wickedness there is in this w r orld. 
He did not fear that any neighbor might tell 
his wife, for there were depths to which no 
person could convince Mrs. Bartlett he would 
descend. But he thought with horror of some 
combination of circumstances that might bring 
his wife to town unknown to him on a day 
when he indulged. He pictured, with a shud- 
der, meeting her unexpectedly on the uncertain 
plank sidewalk of Fort Erie, he smoking a 
cigar. When this nightmare presented itself to 
him, he resolved never to touch a cigar again ; 
but he well knew that the best resolutions fade 
away if a man is excited with two or three 
glasses of liquor. 

When Mrs. Bartlett resumed conversation 
with the professor, Yates looked up at young 
Hiram and winked. The boy flushed with 
pleasure under the comprehensiveness of that 
wink. It included him in the attractive halo 
of crime that enveloped the fascinating per- 
sonality of the man from New York. It seemed 
to say : 

" That's all right, but we are men of the 
world. We know." 

Young Hiram's devotion to the Goddess 



52 flu tbe /BMDst of Blarms. 

Nicotine had never reached the altitude of a 
cigar. He had surreptitiously smoked a pipe 
in a secluded corner behind the barn in days 
when his father was away. He feared both his 
father and his mother, and so was in an even 
more embarrassing situation than old Hiram 
himself. He had worked gradually up to 
tobacco by smoking cigarettes of cane made 
from abandoned hoop-skirts. Crinoline was 
fashionable, even in the country, in those days, 
and ribs of cane were used before the metallic 
distenders of dresses came in. One hoop-skirt, 
whose usefulness as an article of adornment 
was gone, would furnish delight and smoking 
material for a company of boys for a month. 
The cane smoke made the tongue rather raw, 
but the wickedness was undeniable. Yates' 
wink seemed to recognize young Hiram as a 
comrade worthy to offer incense at the shrine, 
and the boy was a firm friend of Yates from 
the moment the eyelid of the latter drooped. 

The tea things having been cleared away, 
Yates got no more glimpses of the girl through 
the open door. He rose from his lowly seat 
and strolled toward the gate, with his hands in 
his pockets. He remembered that he had for- 
gotten something, and cudgeled his brains to 
make out what it was. He gazed down the 
road at the house of the Howards, which 
naturally brought to his recollection his meet- 
ing with the young girl on the road. There 
was a pang of discomfiture in this thought 
when he remembered the accomplishments 
attributed to her by Mrs. Bartlett. He recalled 
his condescending tone to her, and recollected 
his anxiety about the jar. The jar! That 
was what he had forgotten. He flashed a 
glance at old Hiram, and noted that the farmer 
was looking at him with something like re- 
proach in his eyes. Yates moved his head 



1fn tbe jfflM&st ot Blarms. 53 

almost imperceptibly toward the barn, and the 
farmer's eyes dropped to the floor of the 
veranda. The young man nonchalantly 
strolled past the end of the house. 

" I guess I'll go to look after the horses," 
said the fanner, rising. 

" The horses are all right, father. I saw to 
them," put in his son, but the old man frowned 
him down, and slouched around the corner of 
the house. Mrs. Bartlett was too busy talking 
to the professor to notice. So good a listener 
did not fall to her lot every day. 

" Here's looking at you," said Yates, strolling 
into the barn, taking a telescopic metal cup 
from his pocket, and clinking it into receptive 
shape by a jerk of the hand. He offered the 
now elongated cup to Hiram, who declined any 
such modern improvement. 

" Help yourself in that thing. The jug's good 
enough for me." 

" Three fingers " of the liquid gurgled out 
into the patented vessel, and the farmer took 
the jar, after a furtive look over his shoulder. 

" Well, here's luck." The newspaper man 
tossed off the potion with the facility of long 
experience, shutting up the dish with his thumb 
and finger, as if it were a metallic opera hat. 

The farmer drank silently from the jar itself. 
Then he smote in the cork with his open palm. 

"Better bury it in the wheat bin," he said 
morosely. " The boy might find it if you put it 
among the oats feedin' the horses, ye know." 

" Mighty good place," assented Yates, as the 
golden grain flowed in a wave over the sub- 
merged jar. " I say, old man, you know the 
spot ; you've been here before." 

Bartlett's lowering countenance indicated re- 
sentment at the imputation, but he neither 
affirmed nor denied. Yates strolled out of the 
barn, while the farmer went through a small 



54 1Tn tbe jflfct&st of Blarms. 

doorway that led to the stable. A moment 
later he heard Hiram calling loudly to his son 
to bring the pails and water the horses. 

" Evidently preparing an alibi" said Yates, 
smiling to himself, as he sauntered toward the 
gate. 



CHAPTER V. 

"WHAT'S up? what's up?" cried Yates 
drowsily next morning, as a prolonged ham- 
mering at his door awakened him. 

" Well, you re not, anyhow." He recognized 
the voice of young Hiram. " I say, breakfast's 
ready. The professor has been up an hour." 

" All right ; I'll be down shortly," said Yates, 
yawning, adding to himself: " Hang the pro- 
fessor ! " The sun was streaming in through 
the east window, but Yates never before re- 
membered seeing it such a short distance above 
the horizon in the morning, He pulled his 
watch from the pocket of his vest, hanging on 
the bedpost. It was not yet seven o'clock. 
He placed it to his ear, thinking it had stopped, 
but found himself mistaken. 

"What an unearthly hour," he said, unable 
to check the yawns. Yates' years on a morn- 
ing newspaper had made seven o'clock some- 
thing like midnight to him. He had been un- 
able to sleep until after two o'clock, his usual 
time of turning in, and now this rude awaken- 
ing seemed thoughtless cruelty. However, he 
dressed, and yawned himself downstairs. 

They were all seated at breakfast when Yates 
entered the apartment, which was at once din- 
ing room and parlor. 

" Waiting for you," said young Hiram humor- 
ously, that being one of a set of jokes which 
suited various occasions. Yates took his place 
near Miss Kitty, who looked as fresh and 
radiant as a spirit of the morning. 



56 1fn tbe .fllMDst of Blarms, 

" I hope I haven't kept you waiting long," he 
said. 

" No fear," cried Mrs. Bartlett. " If break- 
fast's a minute later than seven o'clock, we soon 
hear of it from the men-folks. They get pre- 
cious hungry by that time." 

" By that time ? " echoed Yates. " Then do 
they get up before seven ? " 

" Laws ! what a farmer you would make, Mr. 
Yates ! " exclaimed Mrs. Bartlett, laughing. 
" Why, everything's done about the house and 
barn ; horses fed, cows milked everything. 
There never was a better motto made than the 
one you learned when you were a boy, and like 
as not have forgotten all about : 

" * Early to bed and early to rise 

Makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise.' 

I'm sorry you don't believe in it, Mr. Yates." 

" Oh, that's all right," said Yates with some 
loftiness ; " but I'd like to see a man get out a 
morning paper on such a basis. I'm healthy 
enough, quite as wealthy as the professor here, 
and everyone will admit that I'm wiser than he 
is ; yet I never go to bed until after two o'clock, 
and rarely wake before noon." 

Kitty laughed at this, and young Hiram 
looked admiringly at the New Yorker, wishing 
he was as clever. 

" For the land's sake ! " cried Mrs. Bartlett, 
with true feminine profanity, " What do you 
do up so late as that ? " 

"Writing, writing," said Yates airily; "arti- 
cles that make dynasties tremble next morning, 
and which call forth apologies or libel suits 
afterward, as the case may be." 

Young Hiram had no patience with one's pro- 
fession as a topic of conversation. The tent and 
its future position was the burning question with 



1fn tbe /BMDst of Blarms. 57 

him. He mumbled something about Yates hav- 
ing slept late in order to avoid the hearing of the 
words of thankfulness at the beginning of the 
meal. What his parents caught of this remark 
should have shown them how evil communica- 
tions corrupt good manners ; for, big as he was, 
the boy had never before ventured even to hint- 
at ridicule on such a subject. He was darkly 
frowned upon by his silent father, and sharply 
reprimanded by his voluble mother. Kitty 
apparently thought it rather funny, and would 
like to have laughed. As it was, she contented 
herself with a sly glance at Yates, who, incredi- 
ble as it may seem, actually blushed at young 
Hiram's allusion to the confusing incident of the 
day before. 

The professor, who was a kind-hearted man, 
drew a herring across the scent. 

" Mr. Bartlett has been good enough," said 
he, changing the subject," to say we may camp 
in the woods at the back of the farm. I have 
been out there this morning, and it certainly 
is a lovely spot." 

" We're awfully obliged, Mr. Bartlett," said 
Yates. " Of course Renmark went out there 
merely to show the difference between the ant 
and the butterfly. You'll find out what a hum- 
bug he is by and by, Mrs. Bartlett. He looks 
honest ; but you wait." 

" I know just the spot for the tent," cried 
young Hiram " down in the hollow by the 
creek. Then you won't need to haul water." 

" Yes, and catch their deaths of fever and 
ague," said Mrs. Bartlett. Malaria had not then 
been invented. " Take my advice, and put your 
tent if you will put it up at all on the highest 
ground you can find. Hauling water won't hurt 
you." 

" I agree with you, Mrs. Bartlett. It shall be 
so. My friend uses no water you ought to 



58 1Fn tbe /BMDet of Blarms, 

have seen his bill at the Buffalo hotel. I have it 
somewhere, and am going to pin it up on the 
outside of the tent as a warning to the youth of 
this neighborhood and what water I need I 
can easily carry up from the creek." 

The professor did not defend himself, and 
Mrs. Bartlett evidently took a large discount 
from all that Yates said. She was a shrewd 
woman. 

After breakfast the men went out to the barn. 
The horses were hitched to the wagon, which 
still contained the tent and fittings. Young 
Hiram threw an ax and a spade among the 
canvas folds, mounted to his place, and drove 
up the lane leading to the forest, followed by 
Yates and Renmark on foot, leaving the farmer 
in his barnyard with a cheery good-by, which he 
did not see fit to return. 

First, a field of wheat ; next, an expanse of 
waving hay that soon would be ready for the 
scythe ; then, a pasture field, in which some young 
horses galloped to the fence, gazing for a moment 
at the harnessed horses, whinnying sympathetic- 
ally, off the next with flying heels wildly flung 
in the air, rejoicing in their own contrast of 
liberty, standing at the farther corner and snort- 
ing defiance to all the world ; last, the cool 
shade of the woods into which the lane ran, 
losing its identity as a wagon road in diverging 
cow paths. Young Hiram knew the locality 
well, and drove direct to an ideal place for 
camping. Yates was enchanted. He included 
all that section of the country in a sweeping 
wave of his hand, and burst forth : 

<( ' This is the spot, the center of the grove : 

There stands the oak, the monarch of the wood. 
In such a place as this, at such an hour, 
We'll raise a tent to ward off sun and shower.* 

Shakespeare improved." 



1fn tbe dfofost of Blarms. 59 

" I think you are mistaken," said Renmark. 

" Not a bit of it. Couldn't be a better camp- 
ing ground." 

" Yes ; I know that. I picked it out two 
hours ago. But you were wrong in your quota- 
tion. It is not by Shakespeare and yourself, as 
you seem to think." 

" Isn't it ? Some other fellow, eh ? Well, if 
Shake, is satisfied, I am. Do you know, Kenny, 
I calculate that, line for line, I've written about 
ten times as much as Shakespeare. Do the 
literati recognize that fact ? Not a bit of it. 
This is an ungrateful world, Stilly." 

" It is, Dick. Now, what are you going to do 
toward putting up the tent ? " 

" Everything, my boy, everything. I know 
more about putting up tents than you do about 
science, or whatever you teach. Now, Hiram, 
my boy, you cut me some stakes about two feet 
long stout ones. Here, professor, throw off 
that coat and ntgligd manner, and grasp this 
spade. I want some trenches dug." 

Yates certainly made good his words. He 
understood the putting up of tents, his experi- 
ence in the army being not yet remote. Young 
Hiram gazed with growing admiration at Yates' 
deftness and evident knowledge of what he was 
about, while his contempt for the professor's 
futile struggle with a spade entangled in tree 
roots was hardly repressed. 

" Better give me that spade," he said at 
length ; but there was an element of stubborn- 
ness in Ren mark's character. He struggled on. 

At last the work was completed, stakes 
driven, ropes tightened, trenches dug. 

Yates danced, and gave the war whoop of the 
country. 

" Thus the canvas tent has risen, 
All the slanting stakes are driven, 
Stakes of oak and stakes of beechwood : 



60 un tbe /HM&st of Blarma. 

Mops his brow, the tired professor ; 
Grins with satisfaction, Hiram ; 
Dances wildly, the reporter 
Calls aloud for gin and water. 

Longfellow, old man, Longfellow. Bet you 
a dollar on it ! " And the frivolous Yates 
poked the professor in the ribs. 

" Richard," said the latter, " I can stand only 
a certain amount of this sort of thing. I don't 
wish to call any man a fool, but you act remark- 
ably like one." 

"Don't be mealy-mouthed, Renny; call a 
spade a spade. By George ! young Hiram has 

gone off and forgotten his And the ax, too ! 

Perhaps they're left for us. He's a good fel- 
low, is young Hiram. A fool? Of course I'm 
a fool. That's what I came for, and that's 
what I'm going to be for the next two weeks. 
4 A fool a fool, I met a fool i' the forest ' just 
the spot for him. Who could be wise here 
after years of brick and mortar ? 

" Where are your eyes, Renny," he cried, 
" that you don't grow wild when you look 
around you ? See the dappled sunlight filtering 
through the leaves ; listen to the murmur of the 
wind in the branches ; hear the trickle of the 
brook down there ; notice the smooth bark of 
the beech and the rugged covering of the oak ; 
smell the wholesome woodland scents. Ren- 
mark, you have no soul, or you could not be so 

unmoved. It is like paradise. It is Say, 

Renny, by Jove, I've forgotten that jug at the 
barn ! " 

"It will be left there." 
" Will it ? Oh, well, if you say so." 
" I do say so. I looked around for it this 
morning to smash it, but couldn't find it." 
" Why didn't you ask old Bartlett?" 
" I did; but he didn't know where it was." 
Yates threw himself down on the moss and 



1fn tbe /HM&st ot Blatms, 61 

laughed, flinging his arms and legs about with 
the joy of living. 

" Say, Culture, have you got any old disrep- 
utable clothes with you ? Well, then, go into 
the tent and put them on ; then come out and 
lie on your back and look up at the leaves. 
You're a good fellow, Renny, but decent clothes 
spoil you. You won't know yourself when you 
get ancient duds on your back. Old clothes 
mean freedom, liberty, all that our ancestors 
fought for. When you come out, we'll settle 
who's to cook and who to wash dishes. I've 
settled it already in my own mind, but I am 
not so selfish as to refuse to discuss the matter 
with you." 

When the professor came out of the tent, 
Yates roared. Renmark himself smiled ; he 
knew the effect would appeal to Yates. 

" By Jove ! old man, I ought to have included 
a mirror in the outfit. The look of learned re- 
spectability, set off with the garments of a dis- 
reputable tramp, makes a combination that is 
simply killing. Well, you can't spoil that suit, 
anyhow. Now sprawl." 

" I'm very comfortable standing up, thank 
you." 

" Get down on your back. You hear me ? " 

" Put me there." 

" You mean it ? " asked Yates, sitting up. 

" Certainly." 

" Say, Renny, beware. I don't want to hurt 
you." 

" I'll forgive you for once." 

" On your head be it." 

" On my back, you mean." 

" That's not bad, Renny," cried Yates, 
springing to his feet. " Now, it will hurt. You 
have fair warning. I have spoken." 

The young men took sparring attitudes. 
Yates tried to do it gently at first, but, finding 



62 Hn tbc /HMfcst of Blatms. 

he could not touch his opponent, struck out 
more earnestly, again giving a friendly warning. 
This went on ineffectually for some time, when 
the professor, with a quick movement, swung 
around his foot with the airy grace of a dancing 
master, and caught Yates just behind the knee, 
at the same time giving him a slight tap on the 
breast. Yates was instantly on his back. 

" Oh, I say, Renny, that wasn't fair. That 
was a kick." 

" No, it wasn't. It is merely a little French 
touch. I learned it in Paris. They do kick 
there, you know ; and it is good to know how 
to use your feet as well as your fists if you are 
set on by three, as I was one night in the Latin 
Quarter." 

Yates sat up. 

" Look here, Renmark ; when were you in 
Paris ? " 

" Several times." 

Yates gazed at him for a few moments, then 
said : 

" Renny, you improve on acquaintance. I 
never saw a Bool-var in my life. You must 
teach me that little kick." 

" With pleasure," said Renmark, sitting 
down, while the other sprawled at full length. 
" Teaching is my business, and I shall be glad 
to exercise any talents I may have in that line. 
In endeavoring to instruct a New York man 
the first step is to convince him that he doesn't 
know everything. That is the difficult point. 
Afterward everything is easy." 

" Mr. Stillson Renmark, you are pleased to 
be severe. Know that you are forgiven. This 
delicious sylvan retreat does not lend itself to 
acrimonious dispute, or, in plain English, quar- 
reling. Let dogs delight, if they want to ; I 
refuse to be goaded by your querulous nature 
into giving anything but the soft answer. Now 



1Tn tbe /BM&et of Blatms, 63 

to business. Nothing is so conducive to friend- 
ship, when two people are camping out, as a 
definition of the duties of each at the begin- 
ning. Do you follow me? " 

" Perfectly. What do you propose ? " 

" I propose that you do the cooking and I 
wash the dishes. We will forage for food 
alternate days." 

" Very well. I agree to that." 

Richard Yates sat suddenly upright, looking 
at his friend with reproach in his eyes. " See 
here, Ren mark; are you resolved to force on 
an international complication the very first 
day? That's no fair show to give a man." 

" What isn't ? " 

" Why, agreeing with him. There are depths 
of meanness in your character, Renny, that I 
never suspected. You know that people who 
camp out always object to the part assigned 
them by their fellow-campers. I counted on 
that. I'll do anything but wash dishes." 

" Then why didn't you say so ? " 

" Because any sane man would have said 
' no ' when I suggested cooking, merely because 
I suggested it. There is no diplomacy about 
you, Renmark. A man doesn't know where to* 
find you when you act like that. When you 
refused to do the cooking, I would have said : 
'Very well, then, I'll do it,' and everything 
would have been lovely ; but now " 

Yates lay down again in disgust. There 
are moments in life when language fails a man. 

" Then it's settled that you do the cooking 
and I wash the dishes ? " said the professor. 

*' Settled ? Oh, yes, if you say so ; but all 
the pleasure of getting one's own way by the 
use of, one's brains is gone. I hate to be 
agreed with in that objectionably civil manner." 

" Well, that point being arranged, who begins 
the foraging you or I ? " 



64 1fn tbe /HMDst of Blarms. 

"Both, Herr Professor, both. I propose to 
go to the house of the Howards, and I need an 
excuse for the first visit ; therefore I shall for- 
age to a limited extent. I go ostensibly for 
bread. As I may not get any, you perhaps 
should bring some from whatever farmhouse 
you choose as the scene of your operations, 
Bread is always handy in the camp, fresh or 
stale. When in doubt, buy more bread. You 
can never go wrong, and the bread won't." 

" What else should I get ? Milk, I suppose ? " 

" Certainly ; eggs, butter anything. Mrs. 
Bartlett will give you hints on what to get that 
will be more valuable than mine." 

" Have you all the cooking utensils you 
need ? " 

" I think so. The villain from whom I hired 
the outfit said it was complete. Doubtless he 
lied ; but we'll manage, I think." 

" Very well. If you wait until I change my 
clothes, I'll go with you as far as the road." 

" My dear fellow, be advised, and don't change. 
You'll get everything twenty per cent, cheaper in 
that rig-out. Besides, you are so much more 
picturesque. Your costume may save us from 
starvation if we run short of cash. You can get 
enough for both of us as a professional tramp. 
Oh, well, if you insist, I'll wait. Good advice 
is thrown away on a man like you." 



CHAPTER VI. 

MARGARET HOWARD stood at the kitchen 
table kneading dough. The room was called 
the kitchen, which it was not, except in winter. 
The stove was moved out in spring to a lean-to, 
easily reached through the open door leading 
to the kitchen veranda. 

When the stove went out or came in, it 
marked the approach or the departure of 
summer. It was the heavy pendulum whose 
swing this way or that indicated the two great 
changes of the year. No job about the farm 
was so much disliked by the farmer and his 
boys as the semiannual removal of the stove. 
Soot came down, stovepipes gratingly grudged 
to go together again ; the stove was heavy and 
cumbersome, and many a pain in a rural back 
dated from the journey of the stove from out- 
house to kitchen. 

The kitchen itself was a one-story building, 
which projected back from the two-story farm- 
house, giving the whole a T-shape. There was 
a veranda on each side of the kitchen, as well 
as one along the front of the house itself. 

Margaret's sleeves were turned back nearly 
to her elbows, showing a pair of white and 
shapely arms. Now and then she deftly dusted 
the kneading board with flour to prevent the 
dough sticking, and as she pressed her open 
palms into the smooth, white, spongy mass, 
the table groaned protestingly. She cut the 
roll with a knife into lumps that were patted 

65 



66 ifn tbe dbtost of Blarms* 

into shape, and placed side by side, like hillocks 
of snow, in the sheet-iron pan. 

At this moment there was a rap at the open 
kitchen door, and Margaret turned round, 
startled, for visitors were rare at that hour of 
the day ; besides, neighbors seldom made such 
a concession to formality as to knock. The 
young girl flushed as she recognized the man 
who had spoken to her the day before. He 
stood smiling in the doorway, with his hat in 
his hand. She uttered no word of greeting or 
welcome, but stood looking at him, with her 
hand on the floury table. 

" Good-morning, Miss Howard," said Yates 
blithely ; " may I come in ? I have been knock- 
ing for some time fruitlessly at the front door, 
so I took the liberty of coming around." 

" I did not hear you knock," answered Mar- 
garet. She neglected to invite him in, but he 
took the permission for granted and entered, 
seating himself as one who had come to stay. 
" You must excuse me for going on with my 
work," she added ; " bread at this stage will 
not wait." 

" Certainly, certainly. Please do not let me 
interrupt you. I have made my own bread for 
years, but not in that way. I am glad that you 
are making bread, for I have come to see if I 
can buy some." 

" Really ? Perhaps I can sell you some 
butter and eggs as well." 

Yates laughed in that joyous, free-hearted 
manner of his which had much to do with his 
getting on in the world. It was difficult to re- 
main long angry with so buoyant a nature. 

" Ah, Miss Howard, I see you haven't for- 
given me for that remark. You surely could 
not have thought I meant it. I really intended 
it for a joke, but I am willing to admit, now 
that I look back on it, that the joke was rather 



1Tn tbe dlMDst of Blarms* 67 

poor; but, then, most of my jokes are rather 
shopworn." 

" I am afraid I lack a sense of humor." 

" All women do," said Yates with easy con- 
fidence. " At least, all I've ever met." 

Yates was sitting in a wooden chair, which 
he now placed at the end of the table, tilting it 
back until his shoulders rested against the wall. 
His feet were upon the rung, and he waved his 
hat back and forth, fanning himself, for it was 
warm. In this position he could look up at the 
face of the pretty girl before him, whose smooth 
brow was touched with just the slightest indi- 
cation of a faint frown. She did not even 
fiance at the self-confident young man, but 
ept her eyes fixed resolutely on her work. In 
the silence the table creaked as Margaret 
kneaded the dough. Yates felt an unaccus- 
tomed sensation of embarrassment creeping 
over him, and realized that he would have to 
re-erect the conversation on a new basis. It 
was manifestly absurd that a resourceful New 
Yorker, who had conversed unabashed with 
presidents, senators, generals, and other great 
people of a great nation, should be put out of 
countenance by the unaccountable coldness of a 
country girl in the wilds of Canada. 

" I have not had an opportunity of properly in- 
troducing myself," he said at last, when the 
creaking of the table, slight as it was, became in- 
supportable. " My name is Richard Yates, and 
I come from New York. I am camping out in 
this neighborhood to relieve, as it were, a mental 
strain the result of years of literary work." 

Yates knew from long experience that the 
quickest and surest road to a woman's confi- 
dence was through her sympathy. " Mental 
strain " struck him as a good phrase, indicating 
midnight oil and the hollow eye of the devoted 
student. 



68 Un tbe flfct&st of Blatms. 

" Is your work mental, then ? " asked Mar- 
garet incredulously, flashing, for the first time, a 
dark-eyed look at him. 

" Yes," Yates laughed uneasily. He had 
manifestly missed fire. " I notice by your tone 
that you evidently think my equipment meager. 
You should not judge by appearances, Miss 
Howard. Most of us are better than we seem, 
pessimists to the contrary notwithstanding. 
Well, as I was saying, the camping company 
consists of two partners. We are so different 
in every respect that we are the best of friends. 
My partner is Mr. Stillson Ren mark, professor 
of something or other in University College, 
Toronto." 

For the first time Margaret exhibited some 
interest in the conversation. 

"Professor Renmark? I have heard of 
him." 

" Dear me ! I had no idea the fame of the 
professor had penetrated beyond the precincts 
of the university if a university has precincts. 
He told me it had all the modern improvements, 
but I suspected at the time that was merely 
Renny's brag." 

The frown on the girl's brow deepened, and 
Yates was quick to see that he had lost ground 
again, if, indeed, he had ever gained any, which 
he began to doubt. She evidently did not 
relish his glib talk about the university. He 
was just about to say something deferentially 
about that institution, for he was not a man 
who would speak disrespectfully of the equator 
if he thought he might curry favor with his 
auditor by doing otherwise, when it occurred to 
him that Miss Howard's interest was centered 
in the man, and not in the university. 

" In this world, Miss Howard," he continued, 
" true merit rarely finds its reward ; at least, 
the reward shows some reluctance in making 



1fn tbe /RMfcet of Blarmg. 69 

itself visible in time fora man to en joy it. Pro- 
fessor Renmark is a man so worthy that I was 
rather astonished to learn that you knew of 
him. I am glad for his sake that it is so, for 
no man more thoroughly deserves fame than 
he." 

" I know nothing of him," said Margaret, 
" except what my brother has written. My 
brother is a student at the university." 

" Is he really ? And what is he going in 
for ? " 

" A good education." 

Yates laughed. 

" Well, that is an all-round handy thing for a 
person to have about him. I often wish I had 
had a university training. Still, it is not valued 
in an American newspaper office as much as 
might be. Yet," he added in a tone that 
showed he did not desire to be unfair to a man 
of education, "I have known some university 
men who became passably good reporters in 
time." 

The girl made no answer, but attended 
strictly to the work in hand. She had the rare 
gift of silence, and these intervals of quiet 
abashed Yates, whose most frequent boast was 
that he could outtalk any man on earth. 
Opposition, or even abuse, merely served as a 
spur to his volubility, but taciturnity discon- 
certed him. 

" Well," he cried at length, with something 
like desperation, " let us abandon this animated 
discussion on the subject of education, and take 
up the more practical topic of bread. Would 
you believe, Miss Howard, that I am an expert 
in bread making ? " 

" I think you said already that you made 
your bread." 

" Ah, yes, but I meant then that I made it by 
the sweat of my good lead pencil. Still, I have 



70 1fn tbe flMDst of Blarma. 

made bread in my time, and I believe that some 
of those who subsisted upon it are alive to-day. 
The endurance of the human frame is some- 
thing marvelous, when you come to think of it. 
I did the baking in a lumber camp one winter. 
Used to dump the contents of a sack of flour 
into a trough made out of a log, pour in a pail 
or two of melted snow, and mix with a hoe 
after the manner of a bricklayer's assistant 
making mortar. There was nothing small or 
mean about my bread making. I was in the 
wholesale trade." 

" I pity the unfortunate lumbermen." 
" Your sympathy is entirely misplaced, Miss 
Howard. You ought to pity me for having to 
pander to such appetites as those men brought 
in from the woods with them. They never 
complained of the quality of the bread, although 
there was occasionally some grumbling about 
the quantity. I have fed sheaves to a thresh- 
ing machine and logs to a sawmill, but their 
voracity was nothing to that of a big lumber- 
man just in from felling trees. Enough, and 
plenty of it, is what he wants. No ' tabbledote ' 
for him. He wants it all at once, and he wants 
it right away. If there is any washing neces- 
sary, he is content to do it after the meal. I 
know nothing, except a morning paper, that has 
such an appetite for miscellaneous stuff as the 
man of the woods." 

The girl made no remark, but Yates could 
see that she was interested in his talk in spite 
of herself. The bread was now in the pans, 
and she had drawn out the table to the middle 
of the floor; the baking board had disappeared, 
and the surface of the table was cleaned. With 
a light, deft motion of her two hands she had 
whisked over its surface the spotlessly white 
cloth, which flowed in waves over the table and 
finally settled calmly in its place like the placid 



f n tbe /HMDst ot Blarms* 71 

face of a pond in the moonlight. Yates realized 
that the way to success lay in keeping the con- 
versation in his own hands and not depending 
on any response. In this way a man may best 
display the store of knowledge he possesses, to 
the admiration and bewilderment of his audi- 
ence, even though his store consists merely of 
samples like the outfit of a commercial traveler ; 
yet a commercial traveler who knows his busi- 
ness can so arrange his samples on the table of 
his room in a hotel that they give the onlooker 
an idea of the vastness and wealth of the ware- 
houses from which they are drawn. 

" Bread," said Yates with the serious air of 
a very learned man, " is a most interesting sub- 
ject. It is a historical subject it is a biblical 
subject. As an article of food it is mentioned 
oftener in the Bible than any other. It is used 
in parable and to point a moral. ' Ye must not 
live on bread alone.' " 

From the suspicion of a twinkle in the eye 
of his listener he feared he had not quoted 
correctly. He knew he was not now among 
that portion of his samples with which he was 
most familiar, so he hastened back to the 
historical aspect of his subject. Few people 
could skate over thinner ice than Richard 
Yates, but his natural shrewdness always 
caused him to return to more solid footing. 

" Now, in this country bread has gone 
through three distinct stages, and although I 
am a strong believer in progress, yet, in the 
case of our most important article of food, I 
hold that the bread of to-day is inferior to the 
bread our mothers used to make, or perhaps, I 
should say, our grandmothers. This is, un- 
fortunately, rapidly becoming the age of 
machinery and machinery, while it may be 
quicker, is certainly not so thorough as old- 
fashioned hand work. There is a new writer 



72 in tbe .flfctost of Blarme. 

in England named Ruskin who is very bitter 
against machinery. He would like to see it 
abolished at least, so he says. I will send for 
one of his books, and show it to you, if you will 
let me." 

" You, in New York, surely do not call the 
author of ' Modern Painters ' and ' The Seven 
Lamps of Architecture ' a new man. My father 
has one of his books which must be nearly 
twenty years old." 

This was the longest speech Margaret had 
made to him, and, as he said afterward to the 
professor in describing its effects, it took him 
right off his feet. He admitted to the professor, 
but not to the girl, that he had never read a 
word of Ruskin in his life. The allusion he 
had made to him he had heard someone else 
use, and he had worked it into an article before 
now with telling effect. " As Mr. Ruskin says " 
looked well in a newspaper column, giving an 
air of erudition and research to it. Mr. Yates, 
however, was not at the present moment pre- 
pared to enter into a discussion on either the 
age or the merits of the English writer. 

" Ah, well," he said, " technically speaking, 
of course, Ruskin is not a new man. What I 
meant was that he is looked on ah in New 
York as that is you know as comparatively 
new comparatively new. But, as I was saying 
about bread, the old log-house era of bread, as 
I might call it, produced the most delicious loaf 
ever made in this country. It was the salt- 
rising kind, and was baked in a round, flat- 
bottomed iron kettle. Did you ever see the 
baking kettle of other clays ? " 

" I think Mrs. Bartlett has one, although she 
never uses it now. It was placed on the hot 
embers, was it not ? " 

" Exactly," said Yates, noting with pleasure 
that the girl was thawing, as he expressed it to 



1Tn tbe .fllM&st of Blarms, 73 

himself. " The hot coals were drawn out and the 
kettle placed upon them. When the lid was in 
position, hot coals were put on the top of it. 
The bread was firm and white and sweet inside, 
with the most delicious golden brown crust all 
around. Ah, that was bread ! but perhaps I 
appreciated it because I was always hungry in 
those days. Then came the alleged improve- 
ment of the tin Dutch oven. That was the 
second stage in the evolution of bread in this 
country. It also belonged to the log-house and 
open-fireplace era. Bread baked by direct heat 
from the fire and reflected heat from the polished 
tin. I think our present cast-iron stove arrange- 
ment is preferable to that, although not up to 
the old-time kettle." 

If Margaret had been a reader of the New 
York Argus, she would have noticed that the 
facts set forth by her visitor had already ap- 
peared in that paper, much elaborated, in an 
article entitled " Our Daily Bread." In the 
pause that ensued after Yates had finished his 
dissertation on the staff of life the stillness was 
broken by a long wailing cry. It began with 
one continued, sustained note, and ended with 
a wail half a tone below the first. The girl 
paid no attention to it, but Yates started to his 
feet. 

" In the name of What's that ? " 

Margaret smiled, but before she could an- 
swer the stillness was again broken by what 
appeared to be the more distant notes of a 
bugle. 

" The first," she said, " was Kitty Bartlett's 
voice calling the men home from the field for 
dinner. Mrs. Bartlett is a very good house- 
keeper, and is usually a few minutes ahead of 
the neighbors with the meals. The second was 
the sound of a horn farther up the road. It is 
what you would deplore as the age of tin ap- 



74 1fn tbe /Ifctost of Alarms, 

plied to the dinner call, just as your tin oven 
supplanted the better bread maker. I like 
Kitty's call much better than the tin horn. It 
seems to me more musical, although it ap- 
peared to startle you." 

"Oh, you can talk!" cried Yates with 
audacious admiration, at which the girl colored 
slightly and seemed to retire within herself 
again. " And you can make fun of people's 
historical lore, too. Which do you use the tin 
horn or the natural voice ? " 

" Neither. If you will look outside, you will 
see a flag at the top of a pole. That is our 
signal." 

It flashed across the mind of Yates that this 
was intended as an intimation that he might see 
many things outside to interest him. He felt 
that his visit had not been at all the brilliant 
success he had anticipated. Of course the 
quest for bread had been merely an excuse. 
He had expected to be able to efface the un- 
favorable impression he knew he had made by 
his jaunty conversation on the Ridge Road the 
day before, and he realized that his position 
was still the same. A good deal of Yates' suc- 
cess in life came from the fact that he never 
knew when he was beaten. He did not admit 
defeat now, but he saw he had, for some reason, 
not gained any advantage in a preliminary 
skirmish. He concluded it would be well to re- 
tire in good order, and renew the contest at 
some future time. He was so unused to any- 
thing like a rebuff that all his fighting qualities 
were up in arms, and he resolved to show this 
unimpressionable girl that he was not a man to 
be lightly valued. 

As he rose the door from the main portion 
of the house opened, and there entered a 
woman hardly yet past middle age, who had 
once been undoubtedly handsome, but on 



ffn tbe dRffcst of Alarms, 75 

whose worn and faded face was the look of 
patient weariness which so often is the result of 
a youth spent in helping a husband to over- 
come the stumpy stubbornness of an American 
bush farm. When the farm is conquered, the 
victor is usually vanquished. It needed no 
second glance to see that she was the mother 
from whom the daughter had inherited her good 
looks. Mrs. Howard did not appear surprised 
to see a stranger standing there ; in fact, the 
faculty of being surprised at anything seemed 
to have left her. Margaret introduced them 
quietly, and went about her preparation for the 
meal. Yates greeted Mrs. Howard with effu- 
sion. He had come, he said, on a bread mis- 
sion. He thought he knew something about 
bread, but he now learned he came too early in 
the day. He hoped he might have the privi- 
lege of repeating his visit. 

" But you are not going now ? " said Mrs. 
Howard with hospitable anxiety, 

" I fear I have already stayed too long," 
answered Yates lingeringly. " My partner, 
Professor Renmark, is also on a foraging ex- 
pedition at your neighbors', the Bartletts. He 
is doubtless back in camp long ago, and will 
be expecting me." 

" No fear of that. Mrs. Bartlett would never 
let anyone go when there is a meal on the way." 

" I am afraid I shall be giving extra trouble 
by staying. I imagine there is quite enough to 
do in every farmhouse without entertaining 
any chance tramp who happens along. Don't 
you agree with me for once, Miss Howard ? " 

Yates was reluctant to go, and yet he did not 
wish to stay unless Margaret added her invita- 
tion to her mother's. He felt vaguely that his 
reluctance did him credit, and that he was 
improving. He could not remember a time 
when he had not taken without question what- 



76 ffn tbe /BMD0t of Blarms. 

ever the gods sent, and this unaccustomed 
qualm of modesty caused him to suspect that 
there were depths in his nature hitherto unex- 
plored. It always flatters a man to realize 
that he is deeper than he thought. 

Mrs. Howard laughed in a subdued manner 
because Yates likened himself to a tramp, and 
Margaret said coldly : 

" Mother's motto is that one more or less 
never makes any difference." 

" And what is your motto, Miss Howard ? " 

" I don't think Margaret has any," said Mrs. 
Howard, answering for her daughter. " She is 
like her father. She reads a great deal and 
doesn't talk much. He would read all the 
time, if he did not have to work. I see Margaret 
has already invited you, for she has put an 
extra plate on the table." 

" Ah, then," said Yates, " I shall have much 
pleasure in accepting both the verbal and the 
crockery invitation. I am sorry for the pro- 
fessor at his lonely meal by the tent ; for he 
is a martyr to duty, and I feel sure Mrs. 
Bartlett will not be able to keep him," 

Before Mrs. Howard could reply there 
floated in to them from the outside, where 
Margaret was, a cheery voice which Yates had 
no difficulty in recognizing as belonging to 
Miss Kitty Bartlett. 

" Hello, Margaret!" she said. " Is he here?" 

The reply was inaudible. 

" Oh, you know whom I mean. That con- 
ceited city fellow." 

There was evidently an admonition and a 
warning. 

" Well, I don't care if he does. I'll tell him 
so to his face. It might do him good." 

Next moment there appeared a pretty vision 
in the doorway. On the fair curls, which were 
flying about her shoulders, had been carelessly 



1Fn tbe /BMDst of Blarms* 77 

placed her brother's straw hat, with a broad 
and torn brim. Her face was flushed with 
running ; and of the fact that she was a very 
lovely girl there was not the slightest doubt. 

" How de do ? " she said to Mrs. Howard, 
and, nodding to Yates, cried : " I knew you were 
here, but I came over to make sure. There's 
going to be war in our house. Mother's made 
a prisoner of the professor already, but he 
doesn't know it. He thinks he's going back to 
the tent, and she's packing up the things he 
wanted, and doing it awfully slow, till I get 
back. He said you would be sure to be wait- 
ing for him out in the woods. We both told 
him there was no fear of that. You wouldn't 
leave a place where there was good cooking for 
all the professors in the world." 

" You are a wonderful judge of character, 
Miss Bartlett," said Yates, somewhat piqued by 
her frankness. 

" Of course I am. The professor knows 
ever so much more than you, but he doesn't 
know when he's well off, just the same. You 
do. He's a quiet, stubborn man." 

" And which do you admire the most, Miss 
Bartlett a quiet, stubborn man, or one who is 
conceited ? " 

Miss Kitty laughed heartily, without the 
slightest trace of embarrassment. " Detest, 
you mean. I'm sure I don't know. Margaret, 
which is the most objectionable ? " 

Margaret looked reproachfully at her neigh- 
bor on being thus suddenly questioned, but 
said nothing. 

Kitty, laughing again, sprang toward her 
friend, dabbed a little kiss, like the peck of a 
bird, on each cheek, cried : " Well, I must be 
off, or mother will have to tie up the professor 
to keep him," and was off accordingly with the 
speed and lightness of a young fawn. 



78 ffn tbe .fllMSst of Blarms. 

"Extraordinary girl," remarked Yates, as the 
flutter of curls and calico dress disappeared, 

" She is a good girl," cried Margaret emphat- 
ically. 

" Bless me, I said nothing to the contrary. 
But don't you think she is somewhat free with 
her opinions about other people ? " asked 
Yates. 

" She did not know that you were within 
hearing when she first spoke, and after that she 
brazened it out. That's her way. But she's 
a kind girl and good-hearted, otherwise she 
would not have taken the trouble to come over 
here merely because your friend happened to 
be surly." 

" Oh, Renny is anything but surly," said 
Yates, as quick to defend his friend as she was 
to stand up for hers. " As I was saying a 
moment ago, he is a martyr to duty, and if he 
thought I was at the camp, nothing would 
keep him. Now he will have a good dinner in 
peace when he knows I am not waiting for him, 
and a good dinner is more than he will get 
when I take to the cooking." 

By this time the silent signal on the flagpole 
had clone its work, and Margaret's father and 
brother arrived from the field. They put their 
broad straw hats on the roof of the kitchen 
veranda, and, taking water in a tin basin from 
the rain barrel, placed it on a bench outside 
and proceeded to wash vigorously. 

Mr. Howard was much more interested in 
his guest than his daughter had apparently 
been. Yates talked glibly, as he could always 
do if he had a sympathetic audience, and he 
showed an easy familiarity with the great 
people of this earth that was fascinating to a 
man who had read much of them, but who was, 
in a measure, locked out of the bustling world. 
Yates knew many of the generals in the late 



1Fn tbe /HM&st of Blarms, 79 

war, and all of the politicians. Of the latter 
there was not an honest man among them, 
according to the reporter ; of the former there 
were few who had not made the most ghastly 
mistakes. He looked on the world as a vast 
hoard of commonplace people, wherein the men 
of real genius were buried out of sight, if there 
were any men of genius, which he seemed to 
doubt, and those on the top were there either 
through their own intrigues or because they 
had been forced up by circumstances. His 
opinions sometimes caused a look of pain to 
cross the face of the older man, who was en- 
thusiastic in his quiet way, and had his heroes. 
He would have been a strong Republican if he 
had lived in the States ; and he had watched 
the four-years' struggle, through the papers, 
with keen and absorbed interest. The North 
had been righting, in his opinion, for the great 
and undying principle of human liberty, and 
had deservedly won. Yates had no such delu- 
sion. It was a politicians' war, he said. 
Principle wasn't in it. The North would have 
been quite willing to let slavery stand if the 
situation had not been forced by the firing on 
Fort Sumter. Then the conduct of the war 
did not at all meet the approval of Mr. Yates. 

" Oh, yes," he said, " I suppose Grant will go 
down into history as a great general. The 
truth is that he simply knew how to subtract. 
That is all there is in it. He had the additional 
boon of an utter lack of imagination. We had 
many generals who were greater than Grant, 
but they were troubled with imaginations. 
Imagination will ruin the best general in the 
world. Now, take yourself, for example. If 
you were to kill a man unintentionally, your 
conscience would trouble you all the rest of 
your life. Think how you would feel, then, if 
you were to cause the death of ten thousand 



so ifn tbe flM&st of Blarms. 

men all in a lump. It would break you down. 
The mistake an ordinary man makes may re- 
sult in the loss of a few dollars, which can be 
replaced ; but if a general makes a mistake, the 
loss can never be made up, for his mistakes are 
estimated by the lives of men. He says ' Go ' 
when he should have said ' Come.' He says 
' Attack ' when he should have said ' Retreat.' 
What is the result? Five, ten, or fifteen thou- 
sand men, many of them better men than he is, 
left dead on the field. Grant had nothing of 
this feeling. He simply knew how to subtract, 
as I said before. It is like this : You have 
fifty thousand men and I have twenty-five thou- 
sand. When I kill twenty-five thousand of 
your men and you kill twenty-five thousand of 
my men, you have twenty-five thousand left and 
I have none. You are the victor, and the 
thoughtless crowd howls about you, but that 
does not make you out the greatest general by 
a long shot. If Lee had had Grant's number, 
and Grant had Lee's, the result would have 
been reversed. Grant set himself to do this 
little sum in subtraction, and he did it did it 
probably as quickly as any other man would 
have done it, and he knew that when it was 
done the war would have to stop. That's all 
there was to it." 

The older man shook his head. " I doubt," 
he said, " if history will take your view either of 
the motives of those in power or of the way the 
war was carried on. It was a great and noble 
struggle, heroically fought by those deluded 
people who were in the wrong, and stubbornly 
contested at immense self-sacrifice by those who 
were in the right." 

" What a pity it was," said young Howard to 
the newspaper man, with a rudeness that drew 
a frown from his father, " that you didn't get to 
show 'em how to carry on the war." 



1fn tbe dlMDst of Blarms* 81 

" Well," said Yates, with a humorous twinkle 
in his eye, " I flatter myself that I would have 
given them some valuable pointers. Still, it is 
too late to bemoan their neglect now." 

" Oh, you may have a chance yet," continued 
the unabashed young man. " They say the 
Fenians are coming over here this time sure. 
You ought to volunteer either on our side or on 
theirs, and show how a war ought to be carried 
on." 

"Oh, there's nothing in the Fenian scare! 
They won't venture over. They fight with 
their mouths. It's the safest way." 

" I believe you," said the youth significantly. 

Perhaps it was because the boy had been so 
inconsiderate as to make these remarks that 
Yates received a cordial invitation from both 
Mr. and Mrs. Howard to visit the farm as often 
as he cared to do so. Of this privilege Yates 
resolved to avail himself, but he would have 
prized it more if Miss Margaret had added her 
word which she did not, perhaps because she 
was so busy looking after the bread. Yates 
knew, however, that with a woman apparent 
progress is rarely synonymous with real prog- 
ress. This knowledge soothed his disappoint- 
ment. 

As he walked back to the camp he reviewed 
his own feelings with something like astonish- 
ment. The march of events was rapid even 
for him, who was not slow in anything he 
undertook. 

" It is the result of leisure," he said to him- 
self. " It is the first breathing time I have had 
for fifteen years. Not two days of my vacation 
gone, and here I am hopelessly in love ! " 



CHAPTER VII. 

YATES had intended to call at the Bartletts' 
and escort Renmark back to the woods ; but 
when he got outside he forgot the existence of 
the professor, and wandered somewhat aimlessly 
up the side road, switching at the weeds that 
always grow in great profusion along the 
ditches of a Canadian country thoroughfare. 
The day was sunny and warm, and as Yates 
wandered on in the direction of the forest he 
thought of many things. He had feared that 
he would find life deadly dull so far from New 
York, without even the consolation of a morn- 
ing paper, the feverish reading of which had 
become a sort of vice with him, like smoking. 
He had imagined that he could not exist with- 
out his morning paper, but he now realized that 
it was not nearly so important a factor in life 
as he had supposed ; yet he sighed when he 
thought of it, and wished he had one with him 
of current date. He could now, for the first 
time in many years, read a paper without that 
vague fear which always possessed him when 
he took up an opposition sheet, still damp from 
the press. Before he could enjoy it his habit 
was to scan it over rapidly to see if it contained 
any item of news which he himself had missed 
the previous day. The impending " scoop " 
hangs over the head of the newspaper man like 
the sword so often quoted. Great as the joy 
of beating the opposition press is, it never takes 
the poignancy of the sting awny from a beating 
received. If a terrible disaster took place, and 
82 



1Fn tbe jfllMDst of &larm0, 83 

another paper gave fuller particulars than the 
Argus did, Yates found himself almost wishing 
the accident had not occurred, although he 
recognized such a wish as decidedly unprofes- 
sional. 

Richard's idea of the correct spirit in a re- 
porter was exemplified by an old broken-down, 
out-of-work morning newspaper man, who had 
not long before committed suicide at an hour 
in the day too late for the evening papers to get 
the sensational item. He had sent in to the 
paper for which he formerly worked a full 
account of the fatality, accurately headed and 
sub-headed ; and, in his note to the city editor, 
he told why he had chosen the hour of 7 P. M. 
as the time for his departure from an unappre- 
ciative world. 

" Ah, well," said Yates under his breath, and 
suddenly pulling himself together, " I mustn't 
think of New York if I intend to stay here for 
a couple of weeks. I'll be city-sick the first 
thing I know, and then I'll make a break for 
the metropolis. This will never do. The air 
here is enchanting, it fills a man with new life. 
This is the spot for me, and I'll stick to it till 
I'm right again. Hang New York! But I 
mustn't think of Broadway or I'm done for." 

He came to the spot in the road where he 
could see the white side of the tent under the 
dark trees, and climbed up on the rail fence, 
sitting there for a few moments. The occa- 
sional call of a quail from a neighboring field 
was the only sound that broke the intense still- 
ness. The warm smell of spring was in the air. 
The buds had but recently broken, and the 
woods, intensely green, had a look of newness 
and freshness that was comforting to the eye 
and grateful to the other senses. The world 
seemed to be but lately made. The young 
man breathed deeply of the vivifying air, and 



84 1fn tbe /HMD0t of Blarms. 

said : " No, there's nothing the matter with 
this place, Dick. New York's a fool to it." 
Then, with a sigh, he added : " If I can stand 
it for two weeks. I wonder how the boys are 
getting on without me." 

In spite of himself his thoughts kept drifting 
back to the great city, although he told himself 
that it wouldn't do. He gazed at the peaceful, 
spreading landscape, but his eyes were vacant 
and he saw nothing. The roar of the streets 
was in his ears. Suddenly his reverie was 
broken by a voice from the forest. 

" I say, Yates, where's the bread ? " 

Yates looked quickly around, somewhat 
startled, and saw the professor coming toward 
him. 

" The bread ? I forgot all about it. No ; I 
didn't either. They were baking that was it. 
I am to go for it later in the day. What loot 
did you rake in, professor? " 

" Vegetables mostly." 

" That's all right. Have a good dinner ? " 

" Excellent." 

" So did I. Renny, when you interrupted 
me, I was just counting the farmhouses in 
sight. What do you say to boarding round 
among them ? You are a schoolmaster, and 
ought to know all about it. Isn't education in 
this country encouraged by paying the teacher 
as little as possible, and letting him take it out 
in eating his way from one house to another ? 
Ever board around, Renny ? " 

" Never. If the custom once existed in 
Canada, it is out of date now." 

" That's a pity. I hate to face my own cook- 
ing, Renmark. We become less brave as we 
grow older. By the way, how is old man Bart- 
lett ? As well as could be expected ? " 

" He seemed much as usual. Mrs. Bartlett 
has sent out two chairs to the tent ; she fears 



1fn tbe dlM&st of Blarma, 85 

we will get rheumatism if we sit on the 
ground." 

" She is a kind woman, Renny, and a thought- 
ful. And that reminds me : I have a hammock 
somewhere among my belongings. I will 
swing it up. Chairs are comfortable, but a 
hammock is luxury." 

Yates slid down from the fence top, and to- 
gether the two men walked to the tent. The 
hammock was unfurled and slung between two 
trees. Yates tested it cautiously, and finally 
trusted himself to its restful folds of network. 
He was swaying indolently several feet from 
the ground when he said to Renmark : 

"I call this paradise paradise regained ; but 
it will be paradise lost next month. Now, pro- 
fessor, I am ready to do the cooking, but I 
have a fancy for doing it by proxy. The 
general directs, and the useful prosaic man 
executes. Where are your vegetables, Renny ? 
Potatoes and carrots, eh ? Very good. Now, 
you may wash them, Renny; but first you 
must bring some water from the spring." 

The professor was a patient man, and he 
obeyed. Yates continued to swing in the ham- 
mock, alternating directions with rhapsodies on 
the beauties of the day and the stillness of the 
woods. Renmark said but little, and attended 
strictly to the business in hand. The vege- 
tables finished, he took a book from his valise, 
tilted a chair back against a tree, and began to 
read. 

" I'm depending upon you for the bread," he 
said to the drowsy man in the hammock. 

" Right you are, Renny. Your confidence is 
not misplaced. I shall presently journey down 
into the realms of civilization, ancl fill the long- 
felt want. I shall go to the Howards by way 
of the Bartlett homestead, but I warn you that 
if there is a meal on, at either place, you will 



86 ifn tbe dlMfcst of Blarma* 

not have me here to test your first efforts at 
cooking. So you may have to wait until break- 
fast for my opinion." 

Yates extricated himself slowly and reluc- 
tantly from the hammock, and looked regret- 
fully at it when he stood once more on the 
ground. 

" This mad struggle for bread, professor, is 
the curse of life here below. It is what we are 
all after. If it were not for the necessity of 
bread and clothing, what a good time a fel- 
low might have. Well, my blessing, Renny. 
Good-by." 

Yates strolled slowly through the woods, 
until he came to the beginning of a lane which 
led to the Bartlett homestead. He saw the 
farmer and his son at work in the back fields. 
From between the distant house and barn there 
arose, straight up into the still air, a blue col- 
umn of smoke, which, reaching a certain height, 
spread out like a thin, hazy cloud above the 
dwelling. At first Yates thought that some 
of the outhouses were on fire, and he quickened 
his pace to a run ; but a moment's reflection 
showed him that the column was plainly visible 
to the workers in the fields, and that if any- 
thing were wrong they would not continue 
placidly at their labor. When he had walked 
the long length of the lane, and had safely 
rounded the corner of the barn, he saw, in the 
open space between that building and the house, 
a huge camp fire blazing. From a pole, upheld 
by two crotched supports, hung a big iron 
kettle over the flames. The caldron was full 
nearly to the brim, and the steam was already 
beginning to rise from its surface, although the 
fire had evidently been but recently kindled. 
The smoke was not now so voluminous, but 
Kitty Bartlett stood there with a big-brimmed 
straw hat in her hands, fanning it away from 



1Tn tbe dlMDst of Blarms. 87 

her face, while the hat at the same time pro- 
tected her rosy countenance from the fire. She 
plainly was not prepared to receive visitors, and 
she started when the young man addressed her, 
flushing still more deeply, apparently annoyed 
at his unwelcome appearance. 

" Good-afternoon," he said cordially. " Pre- 
paring for washing? I thought Monday was 
washing day." 

"It is." 

" Then I have not been misinformed. And 
you are not preparing for washing ? " 

" We are." 

Yates laughed so heartily that Kitty, in spite 
of herself, had to permit a smile to brighten her 
own features. She always found it difficult to 
remain solemn for any length of time. 

" This is obviously a conundrum," said Yates, 
ticking off the items on his four fingers. " First, 
Monday is washing day. Second, this is not 
Monday. Third, neither is to-morrow. Fourth, 
we are preparing for washing. I give it up, 
Miss Bartlett. Please tell me the answer." 

" The answer is that I am making soap ; soft 
soap, if you know what that is." 

" Practically, I don't know what it is ; but I 
have heard the term used in a political connec- 
tion. In the States we say that if a man is 
very diplomatic he uses soft soap, so I suppose 
it has lubricating qualities. Sam Slick used the 
term ' soft sawder ' in the same way ; but what 
sawder is, soft or hard, I haven't the slightest 
idea." 

" I thought you knew everything, Mr. 
Yates." 

"Me? Bless you, no. I'm a humble gleaner 
in the field of knowledge. That's why I brought 
a Toronto professor with me. I want to learn 
something, Won't you teach me how to make 
soap ? ' 



88 ifn tbe /HMfcst of Blarm0. 

" I'm very busy just now. When I said that 
we were preparing for washing, I should per- 
haps have told you there was something else 
we are not prepared for to-day." 

" What is that?" 

" A visitor." 

" Oh, I say, Miss Bartlett, you are a little 
hard on me. I'm not a visitor. I'm a friend 
of the family. I want to help. You will find 
me a most diligent student. Won't you give 
me a chance ? " 

" All the hard work's done. But perhaps 
you knew that before you came." 

Yates looked at her reproachfully, and sighed 
deeply. 

" That's what it is to be a misunderstood 
man. So you think, among other bad qualities, 
I have the habit of shirking work ? Let me 
tell you, Miss Bartlett, that the reason I am 
here is because I have worked too hard. 
Now, confess that you are sorry for what you 
said trampling on an already downtrodden 
man." 

Kitty laughed merrily at this, and Yates 
laughed also, for his sense of comradeship was 
strong. 

" You don't look as if you had ever worked 
in your life ; I don't believe you know what 
work is." 

" But there are different kinds of labor. 
Don't you call writing work ? " 

" No." 

" That's just where you're mistaken. It is, 
and hard work, too. I'll tell you about the 
newspaper business if you'll tell me about soap 
making. Fair exchange. I wish you would 
take me as a pupil, Miss Bartlett ; you would 
find me quick at picking up things." 

"Well, then, pick up that pail and draw a 
pailful of water." 



1Tn tbe ,fflM&0t of Blarms* 89 

" I'll do it," cried Yates sternly ; " I'll do it, 
though it blast me." 

Yates picked up the wooden pail, painted 
blue on the outside, with a red stripe near the 
top for ornament, and cream-colored inside. 
It was called a " patent pail " in those days, as 
it was a comparatively recent innovation, being 
cheaper, lighter, and stronger than the tin pail 
which it was rapidly replacing. At the well was 
a stout pole, pinned through the center to the 
upright support on which it swung, like the 
walking-beam of an engine. The thick end, 
which rested on the ground, was loaded with 
heavy stones ; while from the thin end, high in 
the air, there dangled over the mouth of the 
well a slim pole with a hook. This hook was 
ingeniously furnished with a spring of hickory, 
which snapped when the handle of the pail was 
placed on the hook, and prevented the " patent " 
utensil from slipping off when it was lowered to 
the surface of the water. Yates speedily recog- 
nized the usefulness of this contrivance, for he 
found that the filling of a wooden pail in a deep 
well was not the simple affair it looked. The 
bucket bobbed about on the surface of the 
water. Once he forgot the necessity of keeping 
a stout grip on the pole, and the next instant 
the pail came up to the sunlight with a sudden- 
ness that was terrifying. Only an equally sud- 
den backward jump on Yates' part saved his 
head. Miss Bartlett was pleased to look upon 
this incident as funny. Yates was so startled 
by the unexpected revolt of the pail that his 
native courtesy did not get a chance to prevent 
Kitty from drawing up the water herself. She 
lowered the vessel, pulling down the pole in a 
hand-over-hand manner that the young man 
thought decidedly fetching, and then she gave 
an almost imperceptible twist to the arrange- 
ment that resulted in instant success. The 



QO 1fn tbe jfllMDst of Blarms* 

next thing Yates knew the full pail was resting 
on the well curb, and the hickory spring had 
given the click that released the handle. 

" There," said Kitty, suppressing her merri- 
ment, " that's how it's done," 

" I see the result, Miss Bartlett; but I'm not 
sure I can do the trick. These things are not 
so simple as they seem. What is the next 
step ? " 

" Pour the water into the leach." 

" Into the what ? " 

" Into the leach, I said. Where else ? " 

" Oh, I'm up a tree again. I see I don't even 
know the A B C of this business. In the old 
days the leech was a physician. You don't 
mean I'm to drown a doctor? " 

" This is the leach," said Kitty/, pointing to a 
large, yellowish, upright wooden cylinder, which 
rested on some slanting boards, down the sur- 
face of which ran a brownish liquid that dripped 
into a trough. 

As Yates stood on a bench with the pail in 
his hand he saw that the cylinder was filled 
nearly to the top with sodden wood ashes. 
He poured in the water, and it sank quickly out 
of sight. 

" So this is part of the soap-making equip- 
ment ? " he said, stepping down ; " I thought 
the iron kettle over the fire was the whole 
factory. Tell me about the leach." 

" That is where the hard work of soap making 
comes in," said Kitty, stirring the contents of 
the iron kettle with a long stick. " Keeping 
the leach supplied with water at first is no 
fun, for then the ashes are dry. If you put 
in five more pails of water, I will tell you 
about it." 

" Right ! " cried Yates, pleased to see that the 
girl's evident objection to his presence at first 
was fast disappearing. " Now you'll under- 



1Fn tbe .fliMtet of Blarms, 91 

stand how energetic I am. I'm a handy man 
about a,place." 

When he had completed his task, she was 
still stirring the thickening liquid in the caldron, 
guarding her face from the fire with her big 
straw hat. Her clustering, tangled fair hair 
was down about her shoulders ; and Yates, as 
he put the pail in its place, when it had been 
emptied the fifth time, thought she formed a 
very pretty picture standing there by the fire, 
even if she were making soft soap. 

" The wicked genii has finished the task set 
him by the fairy princess. Now for the reward. 
I want all the particulars about the leach. In 
the first place, where do you get this huge wooden 
cylinder that I have, without apparent effect, 
been pouring water into ? Is it manufactured 
or natural ? " 

" Both. It is a section of the buttonwood 
tree." 

" Buttonwood ? I don't think I ever heard of 
that. I know the beech and the maple, and 
some kinds of oak, but there my wood lore ends. 
Why the buttonwood ? " 

' The buttonwood happens to be exactly 
suited to the purpose. It is a tree that is very 
fine to look at. It seems all right, but it gener- 
ally isn't. It is hollow or rotten within, and, 
even when sound, the timber made from it is of 
little value, as it doesn't last. Yet you can't tell 
until you begin to chop whether it is of any use 
or not." Kitty shot a quick glance at the young 
man, who was sitting on a log watching her. 

" Go on, Miss Bartlett ; I see what you mean. 
There are men like the buttonwood tree. The 
woods are full of them. I've met lots of that 
kind, fair to look upon, but hollow. Of course 
you don't mean anything personal ; for you 
must have seen my worth by the way I stuck to 
the water hauling. But go on." 



92 1fn tbe jfllMDst of 2Uarm0, 

" Dear me, I never thought of such a thing ; 

but a guilty conscience, they say " said Kitty, 

with a giggle. 

" Of course they say ; but it's wrong, like 
most other things they say. It's the man with 
the guilty conscience who looks you straight in 
the eye. Now that the buttonwood is chopped 
down, what's the next thing to be done ? " 

" It is sawn off at the proper length, square 
at one end and slanting at the other." 

" Why slanting ? " 

" Don't you see, the foundation of plank on 
which it rests is inclined, so the end of the leach 
that is down must be slantingly cut, otherwise 
it would not stand perpendicularly. It would 
topple over in the first windstorm." 

" I see, I see. Then they haul it in and set 
it up ? " 

" Oh, dear no ; not yet. They build a fire in 
it when it gets dry enough." 

" Really ? I think I understand the compre- 
hensive scheme, but I slip up on the details, as 
when I tried to submerge that wooden pail. 
What's the fire for?" 

" To burn out what remains of the soft in- 
side wood, so as to leave only the hard outside 
shell. Then the charring of the inner surface 
is supposed to make the leach better more 
water-tight, perhaps." 

" Quite so. Then it is hauled in and set up?" 

" Yes ; and gradually filled with ashes. 
When it is full, we pour the water in it, and 
catch the lye as it drips out. This is put in the 
caldron with grease, pigskins, and that sort of 
thing, and when it boils long enough, the result 
is soft soap." 

" And if you boil it too long, what is the 
result ? " 

' Hard soap, I suppose. I never boil it too 
long." 



1fn tbe $MD0t of Blarms. 93 

The conversation was here interrupted by a 
hissing in the fire, caused by the tumultuous 
boiling over of the soap. Kitty hurriedly threw 
in a basin of cold lye, and stirred the mixture 
vigorously. 

" You see," she said reproachfully, " the 
result of keeping me talking nonsense to you. 
Now you will have to make up for it by bring- 
ing in some wood and putting more water into 
the leach." 

"With the utmost pleasure," cried Yates, 
springing to his feet. " It is a delight to atone 
for a fault by obeying your commands." 

The girl laughed. " Buttonwood," she said. 

Before Yates could think of anything to say 
in reply Mrs. Bartlett appeared at the back 
door. 

" How is the soap getting on, Kitty ? " she 
asked. " Why, Mr. Yates, are you here? " 

" Am I here ? I should say I was. Very 
much here. I'm the hired man. I'm the hewer 
of wood and the hauler of water, or, to speak 
more correctly, I'm the hauler of both. And 
besides, I've been learning how to make soap, 
Mrs. Bartlett." 

" Well, it won't hurt you to know how." 

" You bet it won't. When I get back to 
New York, the first thing I shall do will be to 
chop down a buttonwood tree in the park, if I 
can find one, and set up a leach for myself. 
Lye comes useful in running a paper." 

Mrs. Bartlett's eyes twinkled, for, although 
she did not quite understand his nonsense, she 
knew it was nonsense, and she had a liking for 
frivolous persons, her own husband being so 
somber-minded. 

"Tea is ready," she said. "Of course you 
will stay, Mr. Yates." 

"Really, Mrs. Bartlett, I cannot conscien- 
tiously do so. I haven't earned a meal since 



94 1Fn tbc /BM&st of Blarme. 

the last one. No ; my conscience won't let me 
accept, but thank you all the same." 

"Nonsense; my conscience won't let you 
go away hungry. If nobody were to eat but 
those who earn their victuals, there would be 
more starving people in the world than there 
are. Of course you'll stay." 

" Now, that's what I like, Mrs. Bartlett. I 
like to have a chance of refusing an invitation 
I yearn for, and then be forced to accept. 
That's true hospitality." Then in a whisper 
he added to Kitty ; " If you dare to say ' button- 
wood,' Miss Bartlett, you and I will quarrel." 

But Kitty said nothing, now that her mother 
had appeared on the scene, but industriously 
stirred the contents of the iron kettle. 

" Kitty," said the mother, " you call the men 
to supper." 

" I can't leave this," said Kitty, flushing ; 
" it will boil over. You call, mother." 

So Mrs. Bartlett held her open palms on 
each side of her mouth, and gave the long 
wailing cry, which was faintly answered from 
the fields, and Yates, who knew a thing or two, 
noted with secret satisfaction that Kitty had 
refused doubtless because he was there. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

" I TELL you what it is, Renny," said Yates, 
a few days after the soap episode, as he swung 
in his hammock at the camp, " I'm learning 
something new every day." 

"Not really?" asked the professor in sur- 
prise. 

" Yes, really. I knew it would astonish you. 
My chief pleasure in life, professor, is the sur- 
prising of you. I sometimes wonder why it de- 
lights me ; it is so easily done." 

" Never mind about that. What have you 
been learning? " 

"Wisdom, my boy; wisdom in solid chunks. 
In the first place, I am learning to admire the 
resourcefulness of these people around us. 
Practically, they make everything they need. 
They are the most self-helping people that I 
was ever thrown among. I look upon theirs 
as the ideal life." 

" I think you said something like that when 
we first came here." 

" I said that, you ass, about camping out. 
I am talking now about farm life. Farmers 
eliminate the middleman pretty effectually, 
and that in itself is going a long way toward 
complete happiness. Take the making of soap, 
that I told you about; there you have it, cheap 
and good. When you've made it, you know 
what is in it, and I'll be hanged if you do when 
you pay a big price for it in New York. Here 
they make pretty nearly everything they need, 



g6 fn tbe /BMfcst of Blarms. 

except the wagon and the crockery; and I'm 
not sure but they made them a few years back. 
Now, when a man with a good sharp ax and 
a jack-knife can do anything from building his 
house to whittling out a chair, he's the most 
independent man on earth. Nobody lives 
better than these people do. Everything is 
fresh, sweet, and good. Perhaps the country 
air helps ; but it seems to me I never tasted 
such meals as Mrs. Bartlett, for instance, gets 
up. They buy nothing at the stores except the 
tea, and I confess I prefer milk myself. My 
tastes were always simple." 

" And what is the deduction ? " 

" Why, that this is the proper way to live. 
Old Hiram has an anvil and an amateur forge. 
He can tinker up almost anything, and that 
eliminates the blacksmith. Howard has a 
bench, saws, hammers, and other tools, and that 
eliminates the carpenter. The women elimi- 
nate the baker, the soap boiler, and a lot of 
other parasites. Now, when you have elimi- 
nated all the middlemen, then comes independ- 
ence, and consequently complete happiness. 
You can't keep happiness away with a shotgun 
then." 

" But what is to become of the blacksmith, 
the carpenter, and all the rest ? " 

" Let them take up land and be happy too ; 
there's plenty of land. The land is waiting for 
them. Then look how the master is eliminated. 
That's the most beautiful riddance of all. 
Even the carpenter and blacksmith usually have 
to work under a boss ; and if not, they have to 
depend on the men who employ them. The 
farmer has to please nobody but himself. That 
adds to his independence. That's why old 
Hiram is ready to fight the first comer on the 
slightest provocation. He doesn't care whom 
he offends, so long as it isn't his wife. These 



ffn tbc /llM&st of Blarma* 97 

people know how to make what they want, and 
what they can't make they do without. That's 
the way to form a great nation. You raise, in 
this way, a self-sustaining, resolute, unconquer- 
able people. The reason the North conquered 
the South was because we drew our armies 
mostly from the self-reliant farming class, 
while we had to fight a people accustomed for 
generations to having things done for them." 
" Why don't you buy a farm, Yates ? " 
" Several reasons. I am spoiled for the life 
here. I am like the drunkard who admires a 
temperate life, yet can't pass a ginshop. The 
city virus is in my blood. And then, perhaps, 
after all, I am not quite satisfied with the tend- 
ency of farm life ; it is unfortunately in a transi- 
tion state. It is at the frame-house stage, and 
will soon blossom into the red-brick stage. 
The log-house era is what I yearn for. Then 
everything a person needed was made on the 
farm. When the brick-house era sets in, the 
middleman will be rampant. I saw the other 
day at the Howards' a set of ancient stones that 
interested me as much as an Assyrian marble 
would interest you. They were old, home- 
made millstones, and they have not been used 
since the frame house was built. The grist mill 
at the village put them out of date. And just 
here, notice the subtlety of the crafty middle- 
man. The farmer takes his grist to the mill, 
and the miller does not charge him cash for 
grinding it. He takes toll out of the bags, and 
the fanner has a vague idea that he gets his 
grinding for almost nothing. The old way was 
the best, Renny, my boy. The farmer's son 
won't be as happy in the brick house which the 
mason will build for him as his grandfather 
was in the log house he built for himself. And 
fools call this change the advance of civiliza- 
tion." 



98 1Tn tbe /HMDst of Blarms, 

" There is something to be said for the old 
order of things," admitted Renmark. " If a 
person could unite the advantages of what we 
call civilization with the advantages of a pastoral 
life, he would inaugurate a condition of things 
that would be truly idyllic." 

" That's so, Renmark, that's so ! " cried Yates 
enthusiastically. " A brownstone mansion on 
Fifth Avenue, and a log hut on the shores of 
Lake Superior ! That would suit me down to 
the ground. Spend half the year in each 
place." 

" Yes," said the professor meditatively ; " a 
log hut on the rocks and under the trees, with 
the lake in front, would be very nice if the hut 
had a good library attached." 

" And a daily paper. Don't forget the press." 

" No. I draw the line there. The daily 
paper would mean the daily steamer or the 
daily train. The one would frighten away the 
fish, and the other would disturb the stillness 
with its whistle." 

Yates sighed. " I forgot about the draw- 
backs," he said. " That's the trouble with 
civilization. You can't have the things you 
want without bringing in their trail so many 
things you don't want. I shall have to give up 
the daily paper." 

" Then there is another objection, worse than 
either steamer or train." 

" What's that ? " 

" The daily paper itself." 

Yates sat up indignantly. 

" Renmark ! " he cried, " that's blasphemy. 
For Heaven's sake, man, hold something sacred. 
If you don't respect the press, what do you 
respect ? Not my most cherished feelings, at 
any rate, or you wouldn't talk in that flippant 
manner. If you speak kindly of my daily paper, 
I'll tolerate your library." 



1fn tbe /RMDst of Blarms, 99 

" And that reminds me : Have you brought 
any books with you, Yates ? I have gone 
through most of mine already, although many 
of them will bear going over again ; still, I have 
so much time on my hands that I think I may 
indulge in a little general reading. When you 
wrote asking me to meet you in Buffalo, I 
thought you perhaps intended to tramp through 
the country, so I did not bring as many books 
with me as I should have done if I had known 
you were going to camp out." 

Yates sprang from the hammock. 

" Books ? Well, I should say so ! Perhaps 
you think I don't read anything but the daily 
papers. I'd have you know that I am some- 
thing of a reader myself. You mustn't imagine 
you monopolize all the culture in the township, 
professor." 

The young man went into the tent, and 
shortly returned with an armful of yellow- 
covered, paper-bound small volumes, which he 
flung in profusion at the feet of the man from 
Toronto. They were mostly Beadle's Dime 
Novels, which had a great sale at the time. 

" There," he said, " you have quantity, quality, 
and variety, as I have before remarked. 'The 
Murderous Sioux of Kalamazoo ; ' that's a good 
one. A hair-raising Indian story in every 
sense of the word. The one you are looking 
at is a pirate story, judging by the burning ship 
on the cover. But for first-class highwaymen 
yarns, this other edition is the best. That's the 
'Sixteen String Jack set.' They're immense, if 
they do cost a quarter each. You must begin 
at the right volume, or you'll be sorry. You 
see, they sever really end, although every volume 
is supposed to be complete in itself. They 
leave off at the most exciting point, and are 
continued in the next volume. I call that a 
pretty good idea, but it's rather exasperating if 



ioo fn tbe dlMDet of Blanns, 

you begin at the last book. You'll enjoy this 
lot. I'm glad I brought them along." 

" It is a blessing," said Renmark, with the 
ghost of a smile about his lips. " I can 
truthfully say that they are entirely new to 
me." 

" That's all right, my boy," cried Yates 
loftily, with a wave of his hand. " Use them 
as if they were your own." 

Renmark arose leisurely and picked up a 
quantity of the books. 

" These will do excellently for lighting our 
morning camp fire," he said. " And if you will 
allow me to treat them as if they were my own, 
that is the use to which I will put them. You 
surely do not mean to say that you read such 
trash as this, Yates ? " 

" Trash ? " exclaimed Yates indignantly. 
" It serves me right. That's what a man gets 
for being decent to you, Renny. Well, you're 
not compelled to read them ; but if you put one 
of them in the fire, your stupid treatises will 
follow, if they are not too solid to burn. 
You don't know good literature when you 
see it." 

The professor, buoyed up, perhaps, by the 
conceit which comes to a man through the pos- 
session of a real sheepskin diploma, granted 
by a university of good standing, did not think 
it necessary to defend his literary taste. He 
busied himself in pruning a stick he had cut in 
the forest, and finally he got it into the sem- 
blance of a walking cane. He was an athletic 
man, and the indolence of camp life did not 
suit him as it did Yates. He tested the stick in 
various ways when he had trimmed it to his 
satisfaction. 

" Are you ready for a ten-mile walk ? " he 
asked of the man in the hnmmock. 

" Good gracious, no. Man wants but little 



1Fn tbe- tflMdst ol !!5Uarntg. 101 

walking here below, and he doesn't want it ten 
miles in length either. I'm easily satisfied. 
You're off, are you ? Well, so long. And I 
say, Renny, bring back some bread when you 
return to camp. It's the one safe thing 
to do." 



CHAPTER IX. 

RENMARK walked through the woods and 
then across the fields, until he came to the road. 
He avoided the habitations of man as much as 
he could, for he was neither so sociably inclined 
nor so frequently hungry as was his companion. 
He strode along the road, not caring much 
where it led him. Everyone he met gave him 
" Good-day," after the friendly custom of the 
country. Those with wagons or lighter vehi- 
cles going in his direction usually offered him 
a ride, and went on, wondering that a man 
should choose to walk when it was not com- 
pulsory. The professor, like most silent men, 
found himself good company, and did not feel 
the need of companionship in his walks. He 
had felt relieved rather than disappointed 
when Yates refused to accompany him. And 
Yates, swinging drowsily in his hammock, was 
no less gratified. Even where men are firm 
and intimate friends, the first few clays of camp- 
ing out together is a severe strain on their 
regard for each other. If Damon and Pythias 
had occupied a tent together for a week, the 
worst enemy of either, or both, might at the end 
of that time have ventured into the camp in 
safety, and would have been welcome. 

Renmark thought of these things as he 
walked along. His few days' intimacy with 
Yates had shown him how far apart they had 
managed to get by following paths that di- 
verged more and more widely the farther they 
were trodden. The friendship of their youth 



1fn tbe jfllMDst of Elarms, 103 

had turned out to be merely ephemeral. 
Neither would now choose the other as an inti- 
mate associate. Another illusion had gone. 

" I have surely enough self-control," said 
Renmark to himself, as he walked on, "to 
stand his shallow flippancy for another week, 
and not let him see what I think of him." 

Yates at the same time was thoroughly enjoy- 
ing the peaceful silence of the camp. " That 
man is an exaggerated schoolmaster, with all 
the faults of the species abnormally developed. 
If I once open out on him, he will learn more 
truth about himself in ten minutes than he ever 
heard in his life before. What an unbearable 
prig he has grown to be." Thus ran Yates' 
thoughts as he swung in his hammock, looking 
up at the ceiling of green leaves. 

Nevertheless, the case was not so bad as 
either of them thought. If it had been, then 
were marriage not only a failure, but a practical 
impossibility. If two men can get over the first 
few days in camp without a quarrel, life be- 
comes easier, and the tension relaxes. 

Renmark, as he polished off his ten miles, 
paid little heed to those he met ; but one driver 
drew up his horse and accosted him. 

" Good-day," he said. " How are you get- 
ting on in the tent ? " 

The professor was surprised at the question. 
Had their tenting-out eccentricity gone all over 
the country ? He was not a quick man at rec- 
ognizing people, belonging, as he did, to the 
11 1 - remember-your-face-but-can't - recall-your- 
name " fraternity. It had been said of him 
that he never, at any one time, knew the names 
of more than half a dozen students in his class ; 
but this was an undergraduate libel on him. 
The young man who had accosted him was driv- 
ing a single horse, attached to what he termed 
a " democrat " a four-wheeled light wagon, 



104 1fn tbe jfllMfcat of 2Uarm0, 

not so slim and elegant as a buggy, nor so 
heavy and clumsy as a wagon. Renmark 
looked up at the driver with confused unrecog- 
nition, troubled because he vaguely felt that he 
had met him somewhere before. But his sur- 
prise at being addressed speedily changed into 
amazement as he looked from the driver to the 
load. The " democrat " was heaped with 
books. The larger volumes were stuck along 
the sides with some regularity, and in this way 
kept the miscellaneous pile from being shaken 
out on the road. His eye glittered with a new 
interest as it rested on the many-colored bind- 
ings ; and he recognized in the pile the peculiar 
brown covers of the " Bohn " edition of classic 
translations, that were scattered like so many 
turnips over the top of this ridge of literature. 
He rubbed his eyes to make sure he was not 
dreaming. How came a farmer's boy to be 
driving a wagon load of books in the wilds of 
the country as nonchalantly as if they were so 
many bushels of potatoes ? 

The young driver, who had stopped his horse, 
for the load was heavy and the sand was deep, 
saw that the stranger not only did not recog- 
nize him, but that from the moment he saw the 
books he had forgotten everything else. It was 
evidently necessary to speak again. 

" If you are coming back, will you have a 
ride ? " he asked. 

" I I think I will," said the professor, de- 
scending to earth again and climbing up beside 
the boy. 

" I see you don't remember me," said the 
latter, starting his horse again. " My name is 
Howard. I passed you in my buggy when you 
were coming in with your tent that clay on the 
Ridge. Your partner what's his name 
Yates, isn't it? had dinner at our house the 
other dav." 



1Fn tbe dlMDst of Blarms, 105 

" Ah, yes. I recollect you now. I thought 
I had seen you before ; but it was only for a 
moment, you know. I have a very poor 
memory so far as people are concerned. It 
has always been a failing of mine. Are these 
your books ? And how do you happen to have 
such a quantity ? " 

" Oh, this is the library," said young Howard. 

" The library ? " 

" Yes, the township library, you know." 

"Oh! The township has a library, then? 
I didn't know." 

" Well, it's part of it. This is a fifth part. 
You know about township libraries, don't you ? 
Your partner said you were a college man." 

Renmark blushed at his own ignorance, but 
he was never reluctant to admit it. 

" I ought to be ashamed to confess it, but I 
know nothing of township libraries. Please 
tell me about them." 

Young Howard was eager to give information 
to a college man, especially on the subject of 
books, which he regarded as belonging to the 
province of college-bred men. He was pleased 
also to discover that city people did not know 
everything. He had long had the idea that 
they did, and this belief had been annoyingly 
corroborated by the cocksureness of Yates. 
The professor evidently was a decent fellow, 
who did not pretend to universal knowledge. 
This was encouraging. He liked Renmark 
better than Yates, and was glad he had offered 
him a ride, although, of course, that was the 
custom ; still, a person with one horse and a 
heavy load is exempt on a sandy road. 

" Well, you see," he said in explanation, 
" it's like this : The township votes a sum of 
money, say a hundred dollars, or two hundred, 
as the case may be. They give notice to the 
Government of the amount voted, and the Gov- 



106 ifn tbc /BMDst of Blarms. 

ernment adds the same amount to the township 
money. It's like the old game : you think of a 
number, and they double it. The Government 
has a depository of books, in Toronto, I think, 
and they sell them cheaper than the book- 
stores do. At any rate, the four hundred dol- 
lars' worth are bought, or whatever the amount 
is, and the books are the property of the town- 
ship. Five persons are picked out in the town- 
ship as librarians, and they have to give 
security. My father is librarian for this section. 
The library is divided into five parts, and each 
librarian gets a share. Once a year I go to the 
next section and get all their books. They go 
to the next section, again, and get all the books 
at that place. A man comes to our house to- 
day and takes all we have. So we get a com- 
plete change every year, and in five years we 
get back the first batch, which by that time we 
have forgotten all about. To-day is changing 
day all around." 

" And the books are lent to any person in 
each section who wishes to read them ? " asked 
the professor. 

" Yes. Margaret keeps a record, and a per- 
son can have a book out for two weeks ; after 
that time there is a fine, but Margaret never 
fines anyone." 

" And do people have to pay to take out the 
books ? " 

" Not likely ! " said Howard with fine con- 
tempt. " You wouldn't expect people to pay 
for reading books ; would you, now ? " 

" No, I suppose not. And who selected the 
volumes? " 

" Well, the township can select the books if 
it likes, or it can send a committee to select 
them ; but they didn't think it worth the trouble 
and expense. People grumbled enough at 
wasting money on books as it was, even if they 



ffn tbe /BMDst of Blarms, 107 

did buy them at half price. Still, others said it 
was a pity not to get the money out of the 
Government when they had the chance. I 
don't believe any of them cared very much 
about the books, except father and a few others. 
So the Government chose the books. They'll 
do that if you leave it to them. And a queer 
lot of trash they sent, if you take my word for 
it. I believe they shoved off on us all the 
things no on else would buy. Even when they 
did pick out novels, they were just as tough as 
the history books. ' Adam Becle ' is one. They 
say that's a novel. I tried it, but I would rather 
read the history of Josephus any day. There's 
some fighting in that, if it is a history. Then 
there's any amount of biography books. They're 
no good. There's a ' History of Napoleon/ 
Old Bartlett's got that, and he won't give it up. 
He says he was taxed for the library against his 
will. He dares them to go to law about it, and 
it aint worth while for one book. The other 
sections are all asking for that book ; not that 
they want it, but the whole country knows that 
old Bartlett's a-holding on to it, so they'd like to 
see some fun. Bartlett's read that book four- 
teen times, and it's all he knows. I tell Mar- 
garet she ought to fine him, and keep on fining, 
but she won't do it. I guess Bartlett thinks the 
book belongs to him by this time. Margaret 
likes Kitty and Mrs. Bartlett, so does every- 
body, but old Bartlett's a seed. There he 
sits now on his veranda, and it's a wonder he's 
not reading the ' History of Napoleon.' " 

They were passing the Bartlett house, and 
young Howard raised his voice and called out : 

" I say, Mr. Bartlett, we want that Napoleon 
book. This is changing day, you know. 
Shall I come up for it, or will you bring it 
down ? If you fetch it to the gate, I'll cart it 
home now." 



io8 ifn tbe /BMtet of Alarms. 

The old man paid no heed to what was said 
to him ; but Mrs. Bartlett, attracted by the out- 
cry, came to the door. 

" You go along with your books, you young 
rascal ! " she cried, coming down to the gate 
when she saw the professor. " That's a nice 
way to carry bound books, as if they were a lot 
of bricks. I'll warrant you have lost a dozen 
between Mallory's and here. But easy come, 
easy go. It's plain to be seen they didn't cost 
you anything. I don't know what the world's 
a-coming to when the township spends its 
money in books, as if taxes weren't heavy 
enough already. Won't you come in, Mr. 
Renmark ? Tea's on the table." 

"Mr. Renmark's coming with me this trip, 
Mrs. Bartlett," young Howard said before the 
professor had time to reply; "but I'll come 
over and take tea, if you'll invite me, as soon as 
I have put the horse up." 

" You go along with your nonsense," she 
said ; " I know you." Then in a lower voice 
she asked : " How is your mother, Henry and 
Margaret ? " 

" They're pretty well, thanks." 

" Tell them I'm going to run over to see 
them some day soon, but that need not keep 
them from coming to see me. The old man's 
going to town to-morrow," and with this hint, 
after again inviting the professor to a meal, she 
departed up the path to the house. 

" I think I'll get down here," said Renmark, 
halfway between the two houses. " I am very 
much obliged to you for the ride, and also for 
what you told me about the books. It was 
very interesting." 

"Nonsense!" cried young Howard; "I'm 
not going to let you do anything of the sort. 
You're coming home with me. You want to 
see the books, don't you ? Very well, then, 



1Tn tbe /llMfcst of Alarms, 109 

come along. Margaret is always impatient on 
changing day, she's so anxious to see the books, 
and father generally comes in early from the 
fields for the same reason." 

As they approached the Howard homestead 
they noticed Margaret waiting for them at the 
gate ; but when the girl saw that a stranger was 
in the wagon, she turned and walked into the 
house. Renmark, seeing this retreat, regretted 
he had not accepted Mrs. Bartlett's invitation. 
He was a sensitive man, and did not realize that 
others were sometimes as shy as himself. He 
felt he was intruding, and that at a sacred 
moment the moment of the arrival of the 
library. He was such a lover of books, and 
valued so highly the privilege of being alone 
with them, that he fancied he saw in the abrupt 
departure of Margaret the same feeling of 
resentment he would himself have experienced 
if a visitor had encroached upon him in his 
favorite nook in the fine room that held the 
library of the university. 

When the wagon stopped in the lane, Ren- 
mark said hesitatingly : 

" I think I'll not stay, if you don't mind. My 
friend .s waiting for me at the camp, and will 
be wondering what has become of me." 

" Who ? Yates ? Let him wonder. I guess 
he never bothers about anybody else as long as 
he is comfortable himself. That's how I sized 
him up, at any rate. Besides, you're never go- 
ing back on carrying in the books, are you ? I 
counted on your help. I don't want to do it, 
and it don't seem the square thing to let Mar- 
garet do it all alone ; does it, now ? " 

" Oh, if I can be of any assistance, I 
shall " 

"Of course you can. Besides, I know my 
father wants to see you, anyhow. Don't you, 
father ? " 



no ifn tbe /HM&st of alarms, 

The old man was coming round from the 
back of the house to meet them. 

" Don't I what ? " he asked. 

" You said you wanted to see Professor Ren- 
mark when Margaret told you what Yates had 
said to her about him." 

Renmark reddened slightly at finding so 
many people had made him the subject of con- 
versation, rather suspecting at the same time 
that the boy was making fun of him. Mr. 
Howard cordially held out his hand. 

" So this is Professor Renmark, is it ? I am 
very pleased to see you. Yes, as Henry was 
saying, I have been wanting to see you ever 
since my daughter spoke of you. I suppose 
Henry told you that his brother is a pupil of 
yours ? " 

" Oh ! is Arthur Howard your son ? " cried 
Renmark, warming up at once. " I did not 
know it. There are many young men at the 
college, and I have but the vaguest idea from 
what parts of the country they all come. A 
teacher should have no favorites, but I must 
confess to a strong liking for your son. He is 
a good boy, which cannot be said about every 
member of my class." 

" Arthur was always studious, so we thought 
we would give him a chance. I am glad to 
hear he behaves himself in the city. Fanning 
is hard work, and I hope my boys will have an 
easier time than I had. But come in, come in. 
The missus and Margaret will be glad to see 
you, and hear how the boy is coming on with 
his studies." 

So they went in together. 



CHAPTER X. 

" HELLO ! Hello, there ! Wake up ! Break- 
fa-a-a-st ! I thought that would fetch you. 
Gosh ! I wish I had your job at a dollar a 
day ! " 

Yates rubbed his eyes, and sat up in the 
hammock. At first he thought the forest was 
tumbling down about his ears, but as he col- 
lected his wits he saw that it was only young 
Bartlett who had come crashing through the 
woods on the back of one horse, while he led 
another by a strap attached to a halter. The 
echo of his hearty yell still resounded in the 
depths of the woods, and rang in Yates' ears as 
he pulled himself together. 

'* Did you ah make any remarks ? " asked 
Yates quietly. 

The boy admired his gift of never showing 
surprise. 

" I say, don't you know that it's not healthy 
to go to sleep in the middle of the day ? " 

" Is it the middle of the day ? I thought it 
was later. I guess I can stand it, if the middle 
of the day can. I've a strong constitution. 
Now, what do you mean by dashing up on two 
horses into a man's bedroom in that reckless 
fashion ? " 

The boy laughed. 

" I thought perhaps you would like a ride. 
I knew you were alone, for I saw the professor 
go mooning up the road a little while ago." 

" Oh ! Where was he going ?" 



n2 ifn tbe /flbfost of Blarms. 

" Hanged if I know, and he didn't look as if 
he knew himself. He's a queer fish, aint he ? " 

" He is. Everybody can't be as sensible and 
handsome as we are, you know. Where are 
you going with those horses, young man ? " 

" To get them shod. Won't you come along ? 
You can ride the horse I'm on. Its got a bridle. 
I'll ride the one with the halter." 

" How far away is the blacksmith's shop?" 

" Oh, a couple of miles or so ; down at the 
Cross Roads." 

" Well," said Yates, " there's merit in the 
idea. I take it your generous offer is made in 
good faith, and not necessarily for publication." 

" I don't understand. What do you mean ? " 

" There is no concealed joke, is there ? No 
getting me on the back of one of those brutes 
to make a public exhibition of me ? Do they 
bite or kick or buck, or playfully roll over a 
person ? " 

" No," cried young Bartlett indignantly. 
" This is no circus. Why, a baby could ride 
this horse." 

" Well, that's about the style of horse I prefer. 
You see, I'm a trifle out of practice. I never 
rode anything more spirited than a street car, 
and I haven't been on one of them for a week." 

" Oh, you can ride all right. I guess you 
could do most things you set your mind to." 

Yates was flattered by this evidently sincere 
tribute to his capacity, so he got out of the 
hammock. The boy, who had been sitting on 
the horse with both feet on one side, now 
straightened his back and slipped to the ground. 

" Wait till I throw down the fence," he said. 

Yates mounted with some difficulty, and the 
two went trotting down the road. He managed 
to hold his place with some little uncertainty, 
but the joggling up and down worried him. 
He never seemed to alight in quite the same 



1Fn tbe /lIMDst of Blatms, 113 

place on the horse's back, and this gave an 
element of chance to his position which em- 
barrassed him. He expected to come down 
some time and find the horse wasn't there. 
The boy laughed at his riding, but Yates was 
too much engaged in keeping his position to 
mind that very much. 

" D-d-dirt is s-s-said to b-b-be matter out 
of place, and that's what's the m-m-mat-matter 
w-w-with me." His conversation seemed to 
be shaken out of him by the trotting of the 
horse. " I say, Bartlett, I can't stand this any 
longer. I'd rather walk." 

" You're all right," said the boy ; " we'll make 
him canter." 

He struck the horse over the flank with the 
loose end of the halter rein. 

" Here ! " shouted Yates, letting go the bridle 
and grasping the mane. " Don't make him go 
faster, you young fiend. I'll murder you when 
I get off and that will be soon." 

" You're all right," repeated young Bartlett, 
and, much to his astonishment, Yates found it 
to be so. When the horse broke into a canter, 
Yates thought the motion as easy as swinging 
in a hammock, and as soothing as a rocking 
chair. 

" This is an improvement. But we've got to 
keep it up, for if this brute suddenly changes to 
a trot, I'm done for." 

" We'll keep it up until we come in sight of 
the Corners, then we'll slow down to a walk. 
There's sure to be a lot of fellows at the black- 
smith's shop, so we'll come in on them easy 
like." 

" You're a good fellow, Bartlett," said Yates. 
" I suspected you of tricks at first. I'm afraid, 
if I had got another chap in such a fix, I wouldn't 
have let him off as easily as you have me. The 
temptation would have been too great." 



H4 Un tbe jfllMDst of Blarma, 

When they reached the blacksmith's shop at 
the Corners, they found four horses in the 
building ahead of them. Bartlett tied his team 
outside, and then, with his comrade, entered 
the wide doorway of the smithy. The shop was 
built of rough boards, and the inside was 
blackened with soot. It was not well lighted, 
the two windows being obscured with much 
smoke, so that they were useless as far as their 
original purpose was concerned ; but the door- 
way, as wide as that of a barn, allowed all the 
light to come in that the smith needed for his 
work. At the far end and darkest corner of 
the place stood the forge, with the large bellows 
behind it, concealed, for the most part, by the 
chimney. The forge was perhaps six feet 
square and three or four feet high, built of plank 
and filled in with earth. The top was covered 
with cinders and coal, while in the center 
glowed the red core of the fire, with blue flames 
hovering over it. The man who worked the 
bellows chewed tobacco, and now and then 
projected the juice with deadly accuracy right 
into the center of the fire, where it made a 
momentary hiss and dark spot. All the fre- 
quenters of the smithy admired Sandy's skill in 
expectoration, and many tried in vain to emulate 
it. The envious said it was due to the peculiar 
formation of his front teeth, the upper row 
being prominent, and the two middle teeth set 
far apart, as if one were missing. But this was 
jealousy ; Sandy's perfection in the art was due 
to no favoritism of nature, but to constant and 
long-continued practice. Occasionally with his 
callous right hand, never removing his left from 
the lever, Sandy pulled an iron bar out of the 
fire and examined it critically. The incan- 
descent end of the bar radiated a blinding white 
light when it was gently withdrawn, and illumi- 
nated the man's head, making his beardless face 



1Tn tbe /lfttD0t of Alarms, us 

look, against its dark background, like the 
smudged countenance of some cynical demon 
glowing with a fire from within. The end of 
the bar which he held must have been very 
hot to an ordinary mortal, as everyone in the 
shop knew, all of them, at their initiation to the 
country club, having been handed a black piece 
of iron from Sandy's hand, which he held un- 
flinchingly, but which the innocent receiver 
usually dropped with a yell. This was Sandy's 
favorite joke, and made life worth living for him. 
It was perhaps not so good as the blacksmith's 
own bit of humor, but public opinion was 
divided on that point. Every great man has 
his own particular set of admirers ; and there 
were some who said, under their breaths, of 
course, that Sandy could turn a horseshoe as 
well as Macdonald himself. Experts, however, 
while admitting Sandy's general genius, did not 
go so far as this. 

About half a dozen members of the club were 
present, and most of them stood leaning against 
something with hands deep in their trousers 
pockets ; one was sitting on the blacksmith's 
bench, with his legs dangling down. On the 
bench tools were scattered around so thickly 
that he had had to clear a place before he could 
sit down ; the taking of this liberty proved the 
man to be an old and privileged member. He 
sat there whittling a stick, aimlessly bringing it 
to a fine point, examining it frequently with a 
critical air, as if he were engaged in some deli- 
cate operation which required great discrimina- 
tion. 

The blacksmith himself stooped with his back 
to one of the horses, the hind hoof of the 
animal, between his knees, resting on his 
leathern apron. The horse was restive, looking 
over its shoulder at him, not liking what was 
going on. Macdonald swore at it fluently, and 



n6 ifn tbe flkitet of Blarms. 

requested it to stand still, holding the foot as 
firmly as if it were in his own iron vise, which 
was fixed to the table near the whittler. With 
his right hand he held a hot horseshoe, attached 
to an iron punch that had been driven into one 
of the nail holes, and this he pressed against 
the upraised hoof, as though sealing a docu- 
ment with a gigantic seal. Smoke and flame 
arose from the contact of the hot iron with the 
hoof, and the air was filled with the not 
unpleasant odor of burning horn. The smith's 
tool box, with hammer, pinchers, and nails, lay 
on the earthern floor within easy reach. The 
sweat poured from his grimy brow ; for it was 
a hot job, and Macdonald was in the habit of 
making the most of his work. He was called 
the hardest working man in that part of the 
country, and he was proud of the designation. 
He was a standing reproach to the loafers who 
frequented his shop, and that fact gave him 
pleasure in their company. Besides, a man 
must have an audience when he is an expert in 
swearing. Macdonald's profanity was largely 
automatic, a natural gift, as it were, and he 
meant nothing wrong by it. In fact, when you 
got him fighting angry, he always forgot to 
swear ; but in his calm moments oaths rolled 
easily and picturesquely from his lips, and gave 
fluency to his conversation. Macdonald en- 
joyed the reputation round about of being a 
wicked man, which he was not ; his language 
was against him, that was all. This reputation 
had a misty halo thrown around it by Mac- 
donald's unknown doings " down East," from 
which mystical region he had come. No one 
knew just what Macdonald had done, but it was 
admitted on all sides that he must have had 
some terrible experiences, although he was still 
a young man and unmarried. He used to say : 
" When you have come through what I have, 



1Fn tbe tfibtost of Alarms, n? 

you won't be so ready to pick a quarrel with a 
man." 

This must have meant something significant, 
but the blacksmith never took anyone into his 
confidence ; and " down East " is a vague place, 
a sort of indefinite, unlocalized no-man's-land, 
situated anywhere between Toronto and Que- 
bec. Almost anything might have happened 
in such a space of country. Macdonald's favor- 
ite way of crushing an opponent was to say : 
" When you've had some of my experiences, 
young man, you'll know better'n to talk like 
that." All this gave a certain fascination to 
friendship with the blacksmith ; and the farmers' 
boys felt that they were playing with fire when 
in his company, getting, as it were, a glimpse 
of the dangerous side of life. As for work, the 
blacksmith reveled in it, and made it practi- 
cally his only vice. He did everything with full 
steam on, and was, as has been said, a constant 
reproach to loafers all over the country. When 
there was no work to do, he made work. 
When there was work to do, he did it with a 
rush, sweeping the sweat from his grimy brow 
with his hooked fore finger, and flecking it to 
the floor with a flirt of the right hand, loose on 
the wrist, in a way that made his thumb and 
fore finger snap together like the crack of a whip. 
This action was always accompanied with a 
long-drawn breath, almost a sigh, that seemed 
to say : " I wish I had the easy times you fel- 
lows have." In fact, since he came to the 
neighborhood the current phrase, " He works 
like a steer," had given way to, " He works like 
Macdonald," except with the older people, who 
find it hard to change phrases. Yet everyone 
liked the blacksmith, and took no special of- 
fense at his untiring industry, looking at it 
rather as an example to others. 

He did not look up as the two newcomers 



us ifn tbe /HMfcst of 

entered, but industriously pared down the hoof 
with a curiously formed knife turned like a 
hook at the point, burned in the shoe to its 
place, nailed it on, and rasped the hoof into 
shape with a long, broad file. Not til) he let 
the foot drop on the earthen floor, and slapped 
the impatient horse on the flank, did he deign 
to answer young Bartlett's inquiry. 

" No," he said, wringing the perspiration 
from his forehead, " all these horses aint ahead 
of you, and you won't need to come next week. 
That's the last hoof of the last horse. No man 
needs to come to my shop and go away again, 
while the breath of life is left in me. And I 
don't do it, either, by sitting on a bench and 
whittling a stick." 

" That's so. That's so," said Sandy, chuc- 
kling, in the admiring tone of one who inti- 
mated that, when the boss spoke, wisdom was 
uttered. " That's one on you, Sam." 

" I guess I can stand it, if he can," said the 
whittler from the bench ; which was considered 
fair repartee. 

" Sit it, you mean," said young Bartlett, 
laughing with the others at his own joke. 

" But," said the blacksmith severely, " we're 
out of shoes, and you'll have to wait till we turn 
some, that is, if you don't want the old ones re- 
set. Are they good enough ? " 

" I guess so, if you can find 'em ; but they're 
out in the fields. Didn't think I'd bring the 
horses in while they held on, did you ? " Then, 
suddenly remembering his duties, he said by 
way of general introduction : " Gentlemen, this 
is my friend Mr. Yates from New York." 

The name seemed to fall like a wet blanket 
on the high spirits of the crowd. They had 
imagined from the cut of his clothes that he 
was a storekeeper from some village around, 
or an auctioneer from a distance, these two 



1fn tbe /flMDst of Blarme, 119 

occupations being the highest social position to 
which a man might attain. They were pre- 
pared to hear that he was from Welland, or 
perhaps St. Catherines ; but New York ! that 
was a crusher. Macdonald, however, was not 
a man to be put down in his own shop and be- 
fore his own admirers. He was not going to 
let his prestige slip from him merely because a 
man from New York had happened along. He 
could not claim to know the city, for the 
stranger would quickly detect the imposture, and 
probably expose him ; but the slightly superior 
air which Yates wore irritated him, while it 
abashed the others. Even Sandy was silent. 

" I've met some people from New York down 
East," he said in an offhand manner, as if, 
after all, a man might meet a New Yorker and 
still not sink into the ground. 

" Really ? " said Yates. " I hope you liked 
them." 

" Oh, so-so," replied the blacksmith airily. 
" There's good and bad among them, like the 
rest of us." 

" Ah, you noticed that," said Yates. " Well, 
I've often thought the same myself. It's a 
safe remark to make ; there is generally no dis- 
puting it." 

The condescending air of the New Yorker, 
was maddening, and Macdonald realized that 
he was losing ground. The quiet insolence of 
Yates' tone was so exasperating to the black- 
smith that he felt any language at his disposal 
inadequate to cope with it. The time for the 
practical joke had arrived. The conceit of this 
man must be taken down. He would try 
Sandy's method, and, if that failed, it would at 
least draw attention from himself to his helper. 

" Being as you're from New York, maybe 
you can decide a little bet Sandy here wants to 
have with somebody." 



120 Un tbe .fllMDst of Blarms. 

Sandy, quick to take the hint, picked up the 
bar that always lay near enough the fire to be 
uncomfortably warm. 

" How much do you reckon that weighs ? " 
he said, with critical nicety estimating its 
ounces in his swaying hand. Sandy had never 
done it better. There was a look of perfect 
innocence on his bland, unsophisticated coun- 
tenance, and the crowd looked on in breathless 
suspense. 

Bartlett was about to step forward and save 
his friend, but a wicked glare from Macdonald 
restrained him ; besides, he felt, somehow, 
that his sympathies were with his neighbors, 
and not with the stranger he had brought 
among them. He thought resentfully that 
Yates might have been less high and mighty. 
In fact, when he asked him to come he had 
imagined his brilliancy would be instantly 
popular, and would reflect glory on himself. 
Now he fancied he was included in the general 
scorn Yates took such little pains to conceal. 

Yates glanced at the piece of iron, and, with- 
out taking his hands from his pockets, said 
carelessly : 

" Oh, I should imagine it weighed a couple of 
pounds." 

" Heft it/' said Sandy beseechingly, holding it 
out to him. 

" No, thank you," replied Yates, with a smile. 
" Do you think I have never picked up a hot 
horseshoe before ? If you are anxious to know 
its weight, why don't you take it over to the 
grocery store and have it weighed ? " 

" 'Taint hot," said Sandy, as he feebly smiled 
and flung the iron back on the forge. " If it 
was, I couldn't have held it s'long." 

" Oh, no," returned Yates, with a grin, " of 
course not. I don't know what a blacksmith's 
hands are, do I ? Try something fresh." 



1Fn tbe ^Mfcst of alarms, 121 

Macdonald saw there was no triumph over 
him among his crowd, for they all evidently felt 
as much involved in the failure of Sandy's trick 
as he did himself ; but he was sure that in 
future some man, hard pushed in argument, 
would fling the New Yorker at him. In the 
crisis he showed the instinct of a Napoleon. 

"Well, boys," he cried, "fun's fun, but I've 
got to work. I have to earn my living, any- 
how." 

Yates enjoyed his victory ; they wouldn't try 
" getting at " him again, he said to himself. 

Macdonald strode to the forge and took out 
the bar of white-hot iron. He gave a scarcely 
perceptible nod to Sandy, who, ever ready with 
tobacco juice, spat with great directness on the 
top of the anvil. Macdonald placed the hot 
iron on the spot, and quickly smote it a stal- 
wart blow with the heavy hammer. The result 
was appalling. An instantaneous spreading 
fan of apparently molten iron lit up the place 
as if it were a flash of lightning. There was a 
crash like the bursting of a cannon. The shop 
was filled for a moment with a shower of bril- 
liant sparks, that flew like meteors to every 
corner of the place. Everyone was prepared 
for the explosion except Yates. He sprang 
back with a cry, tripped, and, without having 
time to get the use of his hands to ease his fall, 
tumbled and rolled to the horses' heels. The 
animals, frightened by the report, stamped 
around ; and Yates had to hustle on his hands 
and knees to safer quarters, exhibiting more 
celerity than dignity. The blacksmith never 
smiled, but everyone else roared. The reputa- 
tion of the country was safe. Sandy doubled 
himself up in his boisterous mirth. 

" There's no one like the old man ! " he 
shouted. " Oh, lordy ! lordy ! He's all wool, 
and a yard wide." 



122 ifn tbe /Ifcfoet of Blarms. 

Yates picked himself up and dusted himself 
off, laughing with the rest of them. 

" If I ever knew that trick before, I had for- 
gotten it. That's one on me, as this youth in 
spasms said a moment ago. Blacksmith, shake ! 
I'll treat the crowd, if there's a place handy." 



CHAPTER XL 

PEOPLE who have but a superficial knowledge 
of the life and times here set down may possi- 
bly claim that the grocery store, and not the 
blacksmith's shop, used to be the real country 
club the place where the politics of the 
country were discussed ; where the doings of 
great men were commended or condemned, 
and the government criticised. It is true that 
the grocery store was the club of the village, 
when a place like the Corners grew to be a vil- 
lage ; but the blacksmith's shop was usually the 
first building erected on the spot where a village 
was ultimately to stand. It was the nucleus. 
As a place grew, and enervating luxury set in, 
the grocery store slowly supplanted the black- 
smith's shop, because people found a nail keg, 
or a box of crackers, more comfortable to sit 
on than the limited seats at their disposal in a 
smithy ; moreover, in winter the store, with its 
red-hot box stove, was a place of warmth and 
joy, but the reveling in such an atmosphere of 
comfort meant that the members of the club 
had to live close at hand, for no man would 
brave the storms of a Canadian winter night, 
and journey a mile or two through the snow, 
to enjoy even the pleasures of the store. So 
the grocery was essentially a village club, and 
not a rural club. 

Of course, as civilization advanced, the black- 
smith found it impossible to compete with the 
grocer. He could not offer the same induce- 
123 



124 Un tbe fllMDst of BIarm0, 

ments. The grocery approached more nearly 
than the smithy the grateful epicurism of the 
Athenaeum, the Reform, or the Carlton. It 
catered to the appetite of man, besides supply- 
ing him with the intellectual stimulus of debate. 
A box of soda crackers was generally open, 
and, although such biscuits were always dry, 
they were good to munch, if consumed slowly. 
The barrel of hazel nuts never had a lid on. 
The raisins, in their square box, with blue- 
tinted paper, setting forth the word " Malaga " 
under the colored picture of joyous Spanish 
grape pickers, stood on the shelves behind the 
counter, at an angle suited to display the con- 
tents to all comers, requiring an exceptionally 
long reach, and more than an ordinary amount 
of cheek, before they were got at ; but the 
barrel of Muscavado brown sugar was where 
everyone could dip his hand in ; while the man 
on the keg of tenpenny nails might extend his 
arm over into the display window, where the 
highly colored candies exhibited themselves, 
although the person who meddled often with 
them was frowned upon, for it was etiquette 
in the club not to purloin things which were 
expensive. The grocer himself drew the line 
at the candies, and a second helping usually 
brought forth the mild reproof : 

" Shall I charge that, Sam ; or would you 
rather pay for it now ? " 

All these delicacies were taken in a somewhat 
surreptitious way, and the takers generally 
wore an absent-minded look, as if the purloin- 
ing was not quite intentional on their part. 
But they were all good customers of the grocer, 
and the abstractions were doubtless looked on 
by him as being in the way of trade ; just as 
the giving of a present with a pound of tea, or 
a watch with a suit of clothes, became in later 
days. Be that as it may, he never said anything 



1fn tbe fllMDst of Blarms. 125 

unless his generosity was taken advantage of, 
which was rarely the case. 

Very often on winter nights there was a hila- 
rious feast, that helped to lighten the shelves 
and burden the till. This ordinarily took the 
form of a splurge in cove oysters. Cove oysters 
came from Baltimore, of course, in round tins ; 
they were introduced into Canada long before 
the square tin boxes that now come in winter 
from the same bivalvular city. Cove oysters 
were partly cooked before being tinned, so that 
they would, as the advertisements say, keep in 
any climate. They did not require ice around 
them, as do the square tins which now contain 
the raw oysters. Someone present would say : 

"What's the matter with having a feed of 
cove oysters ? " 

He then collected a subscription of ten cents 
or so from each member, and the whole was 
expended in several cans of oysters and a few 
pounds of crackers. The cooking was done in 
a tin basin on the top of the hot stove. The 
contents of the cans were emptied into this 
handy dish, milk was added, and broken 
crackers, to give thickness and consistency to 
the result. There were always plenty of plates, 
for the store supplied the crockery of the neigh- 
borhood. There were also plenty of spoons, 
for everything was to be had at the grocery. 
What more could the most exacting man need ? 
On a particularly reckless night the feast ended 
with several tins of peaches, which needed no 
cooking, but only a sprinkling of sugar. The 
grocer was always an expert at cooking cove 
oysters and at opening tins of peaches. 

There was a general feeling among the mem- 
bers that, by indulging in these banquets, they 
were going the pace rather ; and some of the 
older heads feebly protested against the in- 
dulgence of the times, but it was noticed that 



126 ifn tbe fllMDst of Blarms. 

they never refrained from doing their share 
when it came to spoon work. 

"A man has but one life to live," the 
younger and more reckless would say, as if 
that excused the extravagance ; for a member 
rarely got away without being fifteen cents out 
of pocket, especially when they had peaches as 
well as oysters. 

The grocery at the Corners had been but 
recently established, and as yet the blacksmith's 
shop had not looked upon it as a rival. Mac- 
donald was monarch of all he surveyed, and his 
shop was the favorite gathering place for miles 
around. The smithy was also the patriotic 
center of the district, as a blacksmith's shop 
must be as long as anvils can take the place of 
cannon for saluting purposes. On the 24th of 
May, the queen's birthday, celebrated locally as 
the only day in the year, except Sundays, when 
Macdonald's face was clean and when he did 
no work, the firing of the anvils aroused the 
echoes of the locality. On that great day the 
grocer supplied the powder, which was worth 
three York shillings a pound a York shilling 
being sixpence halfpenny. It took two men to 
carry an anvil, with a good deal of grunting ; 
but Macdonald, if the crowd were big enough, 
made nothing of picking it up, hoisting it on 
his shoulder, and flinging it down on the green 
in front of his shop. In the iron mass there is 
a square hole, and when the anvil was placed 
upside clown, the hole was uppermost. It was 
filled with powder, and a wooden plug, with a 
notch cut in it, was pounded in with a sledge 
hammer. Powder was sprinkled from the notch 
over the surface of the anvil, and then the crowd 
stood back and held its breath. It was a most 
exciting moment. Macdonald would come 
running out of the shop bareheaded, holding a 
long iron bar, the wavering, red-hot end of 



1Fn tbe $MD6t of Blarms. 127 

which descended on the anvil, while the black- 
smith shouted in a terrifying voice : " Look out, 
there ! " The loose powder hissed and spat for 
a moment, then bang went the cannon, and a 
great cloud of smoke rolled upward, while the 
rousing cheers came echoing back from the sur- 
rounding forests. The helper, with the powder 
horn, would spring to the anvil and pour the 
black explosive into the hole, while another stood 
ready with plug and hammer. The delicious 
scent of burned gunpowder filled the air, and 
was inhaled by all the youngsters with satisfac- 
tion, for now they realized what real war was. 
Thus the salutes were fired, and thus the royal 
birthday was fittingly celebrated. 

Where two anvils were to be had, the cannon- 
ade was much brisker, as then a plug was not 
needed. The hole in the lower anvil was filled 
with powder, and the other anvil was placed 
over it. This was much quicker than pounding 
in a plug, and had quite as striking and deto- 
nating an effect. The upper anvil gave a heave, 
like Mark Twain's shot-laden frog, and fell over 
on its side. The smoke rolled up as usual, and 
the report was equally gratifying. 

Yates learned all these things as he sat in the 
blacksmith's shop, for they were still in the 
month of May, and the smoke of the echoing 
anvils had hardly yet cleared away. All present 
were eager to tell him of the glory of the day. 
One or two were good enough to express regret 
that he had not been there to see. After the 
disaster which had overturned Yates things 
had gone on very smoothly, and he had become 
one of the crowd, as it \vere. The fact that he 
was originally a Canadian told in his favor, 
although he had been contaminated by long 
residence in the States. 

Macdonald worked hard at the turning of 
horseshoes from long rods of iron. Usually an 



128 Un tbe jTOMfcst of Blarms. 

extended line of unfinished shoes bestrode a 
blackened scantling, like bodiless horsemen, 
the scantling crossing the shop overhead, just 
under the roof. These were the work of Mac- 
donald's comparatively leisure days, and they 
were ready to be fitted to the hoofs of any 
horse that came to be shod, but on this occasion 
there had been such a run on his stock that it 
was exhausted, a depletion the smith seemed 
to regard as a reproach on himself, for he told 
Yates several times that he often had as many 
as three dozen shoes up aloft for a rainy day. 

When the sledge hammer work was to be 
done, one of those present stepped forward and 
swung the heavy sledge, keeping stroke for 
stroke with Macclonald's one-handed hammer, 
all of which required a nice ear for time. This 
assistance was supposed to be rendered by 
Sandy; but, as he remarked, he was no hog, 
and anyone who wished to show his skill was 
at liberty to do so. Sandy seemed to spend 
most of his time at the bellows, and when he 
was not echoing the sentiments of the boss, as 
he called him, he was commending the expert- 
ness of the pro tern, amateur, the wielder of the 
sledge. It was fun to the amateur, and it was 
an old thing with Sandy, so he never protested 
against this interference with his duty, believ- 
ing in giving everyone a chance, especially 
when it came to swinging a heavy hammer. The 
whole scene brought back to Yates the days of 
his youth, especially when Macdonald, putting 
the finishing strokes to his shoe, let his ham- 
mer periodically tinkle with musical clangor 
on the anvil, ringing forth a tintinnabulation 
that chimed melodiously on the ear a sort of 
anvil-chorus accompaniment to his mechanical 
skill. He was a real sleight-of-hand man, and 
the anvil was his orchestra. 

Yates soon began to enjoy his visit to the 



1fn tbe .fl&iDst of Alarms* 129 

rural club. As the members thawed out he 
found them all first-rate fellows, and, what was 
more, they were appreciative listeners. His 
stones were all evidently new to them, and 
nothing puts a man into a genial frame of mind 
so quickly as an attentive, sympathetic audi- 
ence. Few men could tell a story better than 
Yates, but he needed the responsive touch of 
interested hearers. He hated to have to explain 
the points of his anecdotes, as, indeed, what 
story-teller does not ? A cold and critical man 
like the professor froze the spring of narration 
at its source. Besides, Renmark had an objec- 
tionable habit of tracing the recital to its origin ; 
it annoyed Yates to tell a modern yarn, and 
then discover that Aristophanes, or some other 
prehistoric poacher on the good things men 
were to say, had forestalled him by a thousand 
years or so. When a man is quick to see the 
point of your stories, and laughs heartily at 
them, you are apt to form a high opinion of his 
good sense, and to value his companionship. 

When the horses were shod, and young 
Bartlett, who was delighted at the impression 
Yates had made, was preparing to go, the 
whole company protested against the New 
Yorker's departure. This was real flattery. 

"What's your hurry, Bartlett?" asked the 
whittler. "You can't do anything this after- 
noon, if you do go home. It's a poor time this 
to mend a bad day's work. If you stay, he'll 
stay ; won't you, Mr. Yates ? Macdonald is 
going to set tires, and he needs us all to look on 
and see that he does it right ; don't you, Mac ? " 

" Yes ; I get a lot of help from you while 
there's a stick to whittle," replied the smith. 

" Then there's the protracted meeting to- 
night at the schoolhouse," put in another, anx- 
ious that all the attractions of the place should 
be brought forward. 



i3o 1Fn tbc dIMDst of Blarma, 

" That's so," said the whittler ; " I had for- 
gotten about that. It's the first night, so we 
must all be there to encourage old Benclerson. 
You'll be on hand to-night, won't you, Mac- 
donald ? " 

The blacksmith made no answer, but turned 

to Sandy and asked him savagely what in 

and nation he was standing gawking there 

for. Why didn't he go outside and get things 
ready for the tire setting ? What in thunder 
was he paying him for, anyhow ? Wasn't 
there enough loafers round, without him join- 
ing the ranks ? 

Sandy took this rating with equanimity, and, 
when the smith's back was turned, he shrugged 
his shoulders, took a fresh bite of tobacco from 
the plug which he drew from his hip pocket, 
winking at the others as he did so. He 
leisurely followed Macdonald out of the shop, 
saying in a whisper as he passed the whittler : 

" I wouldn't rile the old man, if I were you." 

The club then adjourned to the outside, all 
except those who sat on the bench. Yates 
asked : 

"What's the matter with Macdonald? 
Doesn't he like protracted meetings ? And, 
by the way, what are protracted meetings ? " 

" They're revival meetings religious meet- 
ings, you know, for converting sinners." 

" Really ? " said Yates. " But why pro- 
tracted ? Are they kept on for a week or 
two ? " 

" Yes ; I suppose that's why, although, to tell 
the truth, I never knew the reason for the 
name. Protracted meetings always stood for 
just the same thing ever since I was a boy, and 
we took it as meaning that one thing, without 
thinking why." 

" And doesn't Macdonald like them ?" 

" Well, you see, it's like this : He never 



1Fn tbe /HMDst of 2Uarm& 131 

wants to go to a protracted meeting, yet he 
can't keep away. He's like a drunkard and the 
corner tavern. He can't pass it, and he knows 
if he goes in he will fall. Macdonald's always 
the first one to go up to the penitent bench. 
They rake him in every time. He has religion 
real bad for a couple of weeks, and then he 
backslides. He doesn't seem able to stand 
either the converting or the backsliding. I sup- 
pose some time they will gather him in finally, 
and he will stick and become a class leader, 
but he hasn't stuck up to date." 

" Then he doesn't like to hear the subject 
spoken of ? " 

" You bet he don't. It isn't safe to twit him 
about it either. To tell the truth, I was pleased 
when I heard him swear at Sandy; then I knew 
it was all right, and Sandy can stand it. Mac- 
donald is a bad man to tackle when he's mad. 
There's nobody in this district can handle him. 
I'd sooner get a blow from a sledge hammer 
than meet Mac's fist when his dander is up. 
But so long as he swears it's all right. Say, 
you'll stay down for the meeting, won't you? " 

" I think I will. I'll see what young Bartlett 
intends to do. It isn't very far to walk, in any 
case." 

" There will be lots of nice girls going your 
way to-night after the meeting. I don't know 
but I'll jog along in that direction myself when 
it's over. That's the principal use I have for 
the meetings, anyhow." 

The whittler and Yates got down from the 
bench, and joined the crowd outside. Young 
Bartlett sat on one of the horses, loath to leave 
while the tire setting was going on. 

" Are you coming, Yates ? " he shouted, as 
his comrade appeared. 

" I think I'll stay for the meeting," said 
Yates, approaching him and patting the horse. 



132 1Fn tbe dlMDst of Blarms, 

He had no desire for mounting and riding away 
in the presence of that critical assemblage. 

" All right," said young Bartlett. " I guess 
I'll be down at the meeting, too ; then I can 
show you the way home." 

" Thanks," said Yates ; " I'll be on the look- 
out for you." 

Young Bartlett galloped away, and was soon 
lost to sight in a cloud of dust. The others 
had also departed with their shod horses ; but 
there were several new arrivals, and the com- 
pany was augmented rather than diminished. 
They sat around on the fence, or on the logs 
dumped down by the wayside. 

Few smoked, but many chewed tobacco. It 
was a convenient way of using the weed, and 
required no matches, besides being safer for 
men who had to frequent inflammable barns. 

A circular fire burned in front of the shop, 
oak bark being the main fuel used. Iron 
wagon tires lay hidden in this burning circle. 
Macdonald and Sandy bustled about making 
preparations, their faces, more hideous in the 
bright sunlight than in the comparative obscurity 
of the shop, giving them the appearance of two 
evil spirits about to attend some incantation 
scene of which the circular fire was the visi- 
ble indication. Crosstrees, of four pieces of 
squared timber, lay near the fire, with a tireless 
wheel placed flat upon them, the hub in the 
square hole at the center. Shiftless farmers 
always resisted having tires set until they 
would no longer stay on the wheel. The in- 
evitable day was postponed, time and again, by 
a soaking of the wheels overnight in some con- 
venient puddle of water; but as the warmer 
and dryer weather approached this device, 
supplemented by wooden wedges, no longer 
sufficed, and the tires had to be set for summer 
work. Frequently the tire rolled off on the 



1Tn tbe flhitet of Blarms, 133 

sandy highway, and the farmer was reluctantly 
compelled to borrow a rail from the nearest 
fence, and place it so as to support the axle ; he 
then put the denuded wheel and its tire on the 
wagon, and drove slowly to the nearest black- 
smith's shop, his vehicle " trailing like a 
wounded duck," the rail leaving a snake's track 
behind it on the dusty road. 

The blacksmith had previously cut and welded 
the tire, reducing its circumference, and when 
it was hot enough, he and Sandy, each with a 
pair of tongs, lifted it from the red-hot circle of 
fire. It was pressed and hammered down on 
the blazing rim of the wheel, and instantly Sandy 
and Macdonald, with two pails of water that 
stood handy, poured the cold liquid around the 
red-hot zone, enveloping themselves in clouds of 
steam, the quick contraction clamping the iron 
on the wood until the joints cracked together. 
There could be no loitering; quick work was 
necessary, or a spoiled wheel was the result. 
Macdonald, alternately spluttering through fire 
and steam, w r as in his element. Even Sandy 
had to be on the keen jump, without a moment 
to call his plug of tobacco his own. Macdonald 
fussed and fussed, but got through an immense 
amount of work in an incredibly short space of 
time, cursing Sandy pretty much all the while ; 
yet that useful man never replied in kind, con- 
tenting himself with a wink at the crowd 
when he got the chance, and saying under his 
breath : 

" The old man's in great fettle to-day." 
Thus everybody enjoyed himself : Mac- 
donald, because he was the center figure in a 
saturnalia of work ; Sandy, because no matter 
how hard a man has to work he can chew 
tobacco all the time ; the crowd, because the 
spectacle of fire, water, and steam was fine, 
and they didn't have to do anything but sit 



134 "ffn tbe fllMfcet of alarms, 

around and look on. The sun got lower and 
lower as, one by one, the spectators departed 
to do their chores, and prepare for the even- 
ing meeting. Yates at the invitation of the 
whittler went home with him, and thoroughly 
relished his evening meal. 



CHAPTER XII. 

MARGARET had never met any man but her 
father who was so fond of books as Professor 
Renmark. The young fellows of her acquaint- 
ance read scarcely anything but the weekly 
papers ; they went with some care through the 
yellow almanac that was given away free, with 
the grocer's name printed on the back. The 
marvelous cures the almanac recorded were of 
little interest, and were chiefly read by the older 
folk, but the young men reveled in the jokes to 
be found at the bottom of every page, their 
only drawback being that one could never tell 
the stories at a paring-bee or other social 
gathering, because everyone in the company 
had read them. A few of the young men came 
sheepishly round to get a book out of the library, 
but it was evident that their interest was not so 
much in the volume as in the librarian, and 
when that fact became apparent to the girl, she 
resented it. Margaret was thought to be cold 
and proud by the youth of the neighborhood, or 
" stuck-up," as they expressed it. 

To such a girl a man like Renmark was a 
revelation. He could talk of other things than 
the weather, live stock, and the prospects for 
the crops. The conversation at first did not 
include Margaret, but she listened to every 
word of it with interest. Her father and mother 
were anxious to hear about their boy ; and from 
that engrossing subject the talk soon drifted to 
university life, and the differences between city 
and country. At last the farmer, with a sigh, 

135 



136 flu tbc tflMfcat of Blarme. 

arose to go. There is little time for pleasant 
talk on a farm while daylight lasts. Margaret, 
remembering her duties as librarian, began to 
take in the books from the wagon to the front 
room. Renmark, slow in most things, was 
quick enough to offer his assistance on this 
occasion ; but he reddened somewhat as he did 
so, for he was unused to being a squire of 
dames. 

" I wish you would let me do the porterage," 
he said. " I would like to earn the right to 
look at these books sometimes, even though I 
may not have the privilege of borrowing, not 
being a taxable resident of the township." 

" The librarian," answered Margaret, with a 
smile, " seems to be at liberty to use her own 
discretion in the matter of lending. No one has 
authority to look over her accounts, or to cen- 
sure her if she lends recklessly. So, if you wish 
to borrow books, all you have to do is to ask 
for them." 

" You may be sure I shall avail myself of the 
permission. But my conscience will be easier 
if I am allowed to carry them in." 

" You will be permitted to help. I like carry- 
ing them. There is no more delicious armful 
than books." 

As Renmark looked at the lovely girl, her 
face radiant with enthusiasm, the disconcerting 
thought came suddenly that perhaps her state- 
ment might not be accurate. No such thought 
had ever suggested itself to him before, and it 
now filled him with guilty confusion. He met 
the clear, honest gaze of her eyes for a mo- 
ment, then he stammered lamely : 

" I I too am very fond of books." 

Together they carried in the several hundred 
volumes, and then began to arrange them. 

" Have you no catalogue ? " he asked. 

" No. We never seem to need one. People 



fln tbe /UM>0t of Blarms, 137 

come and look over the library, and take out 
whatever book they fancy." 

" Yes, but still every library ought to be cata- 
logued. Cataloguing is an art in itself. I have 
paid a good deal of attention to it, and will 
show you how it is done, if you care to know." 

" Oh, I wish you would." 

" How do you keep a record of the volumes 
that are out ? " 

" I just write the name of the person, the 
title, and the date in this blank book. When 
the volume is returned, I score out the record." 

" I see," said Renmark dubiously. 

"That isn't right, is it? Is there a better 
way ? " 

" Well, for a small library, that ought to do ; 
but if you were handling many books, I think 
confusion might result." 

" Do tell me the right way. I should like to 
know, even if it is a small library." 

" There are several methods, but I am by no 
means sure your way is not the simplest, and 
therefore the best in this instance." 

" I'm not going to be put off like that," said 
Margaret, laughing. " A collection of books is 
a collection of books, whether large or small, 
and deserves respect and the best of treatment. 
Now, what method is used in large libraries ? " 

" Well, I should suggest a system of cards, 
though slips of paper would do. When any 
person wants to take out a book, let him make 
out a card, giving the date and the name or 
number of the book ; he then must sign the 
card, and there you are. He cannot deny hav- 
ing had the book, for you have his own signa- 
ture to prove it. The slips are arranged in a 
box according to dates, and when a book is 
returned, you tear up the recording paper." 

" I think that is a very good way, and I will 
adopt it." 



138 1Fn tbe tfiMfcet of Blarms. 

" Then let me send to Toronto and get you 
a few hundred cards. We'll have them here in 
a day or two." 

" Oh, I don't want to put you to that 
trouble." 

" It is no trouble at all. Now, that is settled, 
let us attack the catalogue. Have you a blank 
book anywhere about? We will first make an 
alphabetical list ; then we will arrange them 
under the heads of history, biography, fiction, 
and so on." 

Simple as it appeared, the making of a cata- 
logue took a long time. Both were absorbed in 
their occupation. Cataloguing in itself is a 
straight and narrow path, but in this instance 
there were so many delightful side excursions 
that rapid progress could not be expected. To 
a reader the mere mention of a book brings up 
recollections. Margaret was reading out the 
names ; Renmark, on slips of paper, each with 
a letter on it, was writing them down. 

" Oh, have you that book ? " he would say, 
looking up as a title was mentioned. " Have 
you ever read it ? " 

" No ; for, you see, this part of the library is 
all new to me. Why, here is one of which the 
leaves are not even cut. No one has read it. 
Is it good ? " 

" One of the best," Renmark would say, tak- 
ing the volume. " Yes, I know this edition. 
Let me read you one passage." 

And Margaret would sit in the rocking chair, 
while he cut the leaves and found the place. 
One extract was sure to suggest another, and 
time passed before the title of the book found 
its way to the proper slip of paper. These ex- 
cursions into literature were most interesting to 
both excursionists, but they interfered with 
cataloguing. Renmark read and read, ever and 
anon stopping to explain some point, or quote 



fit tbe /libi&st of Alarms* 139 

what someone else had said on the same sub- 
ject, marking the place in the book, as he 
paused, with inserted fore finger. Margaret 
swayed back and forth in the comfortable 
rocking chair, and listened intently, her large 
dark eyes fixed upon him so earnestly that now 
and then, when he met them, he seemed dis- 
concerted for a moment. But the girl did not 
notice this. At the end of one of his disserta- 
tions she leaned her elbow on. the arm of the 
chair, with her cheek resting against her hand, 
and said : 

" How very clear you make everything, Mr. 
Renmark." 

" Do you think so ? " he said with a smile. 
" It's my business, you know." 

" J think it's a shame that girls are not al- 
lowed to go to the university ; don't you ? " 

" Really, I never gave any thought to the 
subject, and I am not quite prepared to say." 

" Well, I think it most unfair. The university 
is supported by the Government, is it not? 
Then why should half of the population be 
shut out from its advantages ? " 

" I'm afraid it wouldn't do, you know." 

" Why ? " 

"There are many reasons," he replied 
evasively. 

" What are they ? Do you think girls could 
not learn, or are not as capable of hard study 
as well as " 

" It isn't that," he interrupted ; " there are 
plenty of girls' schools in the country, you 
know. Some very good ones in Toronto it- 
self, for that matter." 

" Yes ; but why shouldn't I go to the uni- 
versity with my brother ? There are plenty of 
boys' schools, too, but the university is the uni- 
versity. I suppose my father helps to support 
it. Why, then, should one child be allowed to 



140 1Fn tbe /KM&0t of Blarma. 

attend and the other not ? It isn't at all 
just." 

" It wouldn't do," said the professor more 
firmly, the more he thought about it. 

" Would you take that as a satisfying reason 
from one of your students ? " 

" What ? " 

" The phrase, ' It wouldn't do.' " 

Renmark laughed. 

"I'm afraid not," he said; "but, then, I'm 
very exacting in class. Now, if you want to 
know, why do you not ask your father ? " 

" Father and I have discussed the question, 
often, and he quite agrees with me in thinking 
it unfair." 

" Oh, does he ? " said Renmark, taken aback ; 
although, when he reflected, he realized that 
the father doubtless knew as little about the 
dangers of the city as the daughter did. 

" And what does your mother say ?" 

" Oh, mother thinks if a girl is a good house- 
keeper it is all that is required. So you will 
have to give me a good reason, if there is one, 
for nobody else in this house argues on your 
side of the question." 

" Well," said Renmark in an embarrassed 
manner, " if you don't know by the time you 
are twenty-five, I'll promise to discuss the 
whole subject with you." 

Margaret sighed as she leaned back in her 
chair. 

" Twenty-five? " she cried, adding with the 
unconscious veracity of youth : " That will be 
seven years to wait. Thank you, but I think 
I'll find out before that time." 

" I think you will," Renmark answered. 

They were interrupted by the sudden and 
unannounced entrance of her brother. 

" Hello, you two ! " he shouted with the 
rude familiarity of a boy. " It seems the 



1Fn tbe /Hbtfcst of Elarm0, 141 

library takes a longer time to arrange than 
usual." 

Margaret rose with dignity. 

" We are cataloguing," she said severely. 

" Oh, that's what you call it, is it ? Can I be 
of any assistance, or is two company when 
they're cataloguing ? Have you any idea what 
time it is ? " 

" I'm afraid I must be off," said the pro- 
fessor, rising. " My companion in camp won't 
know what has become of me." 

" Oh, he's all right ! " said H^nry. " He's 
down at the Corners, and is going to stay there 
for the meeting to-night. Young Bartlett 
passed a while ago ; he was getting the horses 
shod, and your friend went with him. I guess 
Yates can take care of himself, Mr. Renmark. 
Say, sis, will you go to the meeting ? I'm going. 
Young Bartlett's going, and so is Kitty. Won't 
you come, too, Mr. Renmark ? It's great fun." 

" Don't talk like that about a religious 
gathering, Henry," said his sister, frowning. 

" Well, that's what it is, anyhow." 

" Is it a prayer meeting ? " asked the pro- 
fessor, looking at the girl. 

" You bet it is ! " cried Henry enthusiastically, 
giving no one a chance to speak but himself. 
" It's a prayer meeting, and every other kind of 
meeting all rolled into one. It's a revival meet- 
ing ; a protracted meeting, that's what it is. 
You had better come with us, Mr. Renmark, 
and then you can see what it is like. You can 
walk home with Yates." 

This attractive denouement did not seem to 
appeal so strongly to the professor as the boy 
expected, for he made no answer. 

" You will come, sis ; won't you ? " urged the 
boy. 

" Are you sure Kitty is going ? " 

" Of course she is. You don't think she'd 



142 1fn tbe /HMDst of alarms* 

miss it, do you ? They'll soon be here, too ; 
better go and get ready." 

" I'll see what mother says," replied Margaret 
as she left the room. She shortly returned, 
dressed ready for the meeting, and the pro- 
fessor concluded he would go also. 



CHAPTER XIII. 

ANYONE passing the Corners that evening 
would have quickly seen that something impor- 
tant was on. Vehicles of all kinds lined the 
roadway, drawn in toward the fence, to the 
rails of which the horses were tied. Some had 
evidently come from afar, for the fame of the 
revivalist was widespread. The women, when 
they arrived, entered the schoolhouse, which 
was brilliantly lighted with oil lamps. The 
men stood around outside in groups, while 
many sat in rows on the fences, all conversing 
about every conceivable topic except religion. 
They apparently acted on the theory that there 
would be enough religion to satisfy the most 
exacting when they went inside. Yates sat on 
the top rail of the fence with the whittler, whose 
guest he had been. It was getting too dark 
for satisfactory whittling, so the man with the 
jack-knife improved the time by cutting notches 
in the rail on which he sat. Even when this 
failed, there was always a satisfaction in open- 
ing and shutting a knife that had a powerful 
spring at the back of it, added to which was 
the pleasurable danger of cutting his fingers. 
They were discussing the Fenian question, 
which at that time was occupying the minds of 
Canadians to some extent. Yates was telling 
them what he knew of the brotherhood in New 
York, and the strength of it, which his auditors 
seemed inclined to underestimate. Nobody 
believed that the Fenians would be so fool- 
hardy as to attempt an invasion of Canada; 



144 1Tn tbe flfcfost of Blarm0, 

but Yates held that if they did they would give 
the Canadians more trouble than was expected. 

" Oh, we'll turn old Bartlett on them, if they 
come over here. They'll be glad enough to get 
back if he tackles them." 

" With his tongue," added another. 

" By the way," said the whittler, " did young 
Bartlett say he was coming to-night ? I hope 
he'll bring his sister if he does. Didn't any of 
you fellows ask him to bring her ? He'd never 
think of it if he wasn't told. He has no con- 
sideration for the rest of us." 

" Why didn't you ask him? I hear you have 
taken to going in that direction yourself." 

" Who ? Me ? " asked the whittler, quite un- 
concerned. " I have no chance in that quarter, 
especially when the old man's around." 

There was a sound of singing from the 
schoolhouse. The double doors were wide 
open, and as the light streamed out the people 
began to stream in." 

" Where's Macdonald ? " asked Yates. 

" Oh, I guess he's taken to the woods. He 
washes his face, and then he hides. He has 
the sense to wash his face first, for he knows 
he will have to come. You'll see him back 
before they start the second hymn." 

" Well, boys ! " said one, getting down from 
the fence and stretching his arms above his 
head with a yawn, " I guess, if we're going in, 
it's about time." 

One after another they got down from the 
fence, the whittler shutting his knife with a 
reluctant snap, and putting it in his pocket 
with evident regret. The schoolhouse, large as 
it was, was filled to its utmost capacity women 
on one side of the room, and men on the other; 
although near the door there was no such 
division, all the occupants of the back benches 
being men and boys. The congregation was 



1Fn tbe dlMDst of Blarma. 145 

standing, singing- a hymn, when Yates and 
his comrades entered, so their quiet incoming 
was not noticed. The teacher's desk had been 
moved from the platform on which it usually 
stood, and now occupied a corner on the men's 
side of the house. It was used as a seat by 
two or three, who wished to be near the front, 
and at the same time keep an eye on the rest 
of the assemblage. The local preacher stood 
on the edge of the platform, beating time 
gently with his hymn book, but not singing, as 
he had neither voice nor ear for music, and 
happily recognized the fact. The singing was 
led by a man in the middle of the room. 

At the back of the platform, near the wall, 
were two chairs, on one of which sat the Rev. 
Mr. Benderson, who was to conduct the revival. 
He was a stout, powerful-looking man, but 
Yates could not see his face, for it was buried 
in his hands, his head being bowed in silent 
prayer. It was generally understood that he 
had spent a youth of fearful wickedness, and 
he always referred to himself as a brand 
snatched from the burning. It was even hinted 
that at one time he had been a card player, 
but no one knew this for a fact. Many of the 
local preachers had not the power of exhorta- 
tion, therefore a man like the Rev. Mr. Bender- 
son, who had that gift abnormally developed, 
was too valuable to be localized ; so he spent 
the year going from place to place, sweeping, 
driving, coaxing, or frightening into the fold 
those stray sheep that hovered on the outskirts ; 
once they were within the religious ring-fence 
the local minister was supposed to keep them 
there. The latter, who had given out the 
hymn, was a man of very different caliber. 
He was tall, pale, and thin, and his long black 
coat hung on him as if it were on a post. When 
the hymn was finished, and everyone sat down, 



146 1Fn tbe /BM&st of Blarma. 

Yates, and those with him, found seats as best 
they could at the end near the door. This was 
the portion of the hall where the scoffers 
assembled, but it was also the portion which 
yielded most fruit, if the revival happened to 
be a successful one. Yates, seeing the place so 
full, and noticing two empty benches up at the 
front, asked the whittler why they were not 
occupied. 

" They'll be occupied pretty soon." 

" Who are they being kept for ? " 

" Perhaps you, perhaps me, perhaps both of 
us. You never can tell. That's the penitents' 
bench." 

The local preacher knelt on the platform, 
and offered up a prayer. He asked the Lord 
to bless the efforts of the brother who was with 
them there that night, and to crown his labors 
with success; through his instrumentality to 
call many wandering sinners home. There 
were cries of " Amen " and " Bless the Lord " 
from different parts of the hall as the prayer 
was being made. On rising, another hymn was 
given out : 

" Joy to the world, the Lord is come. 
Let earth receive her King." 

The leader of the singing started it too low. 
The tune began high, and ran down to the 
bottom of the scale by the time it reached the 
end of the first line. When the congregation 
had got two-thirds of the way down, they found 
they could go no farther, not even those who sang 
bass. Theleader, insomeconfusion,had to pitch 
the tune higher, and his miscalculation was 
looked upon as exceedingly funny by the reckless 
spirits at the back of the hall. The door opened 
quietly, and they all turned expecting to see 
Macdonald, but it was only Sandy. He had 
washed his face with but indifferent success, 



1fn tbe jfflMDst of Blatma. 147 

and the bulge in his cheek, like a wen, showed 
that he had not abandoned tobacco on entering 
the schoolhouse. He tiptoed to a place be- 
side his friends. 

" The old man's outside," he whispered to 
the youth who sat nearest him, holding his 
hand to the side of his mouth so that the sound 
would not travel. Catching sight of Yates, he 
winked at him in a friendly sort of way. 

The hymn gathered volume and spirit as it 
went on, gradually recovering from the misad- 
venture at starting. When it was finished, 
the preacher sat down beside the revivalist. 
His part of the work was done, as there was 
no formal introduction of speaker to audience 
to be gone through. The other remained as he 
was, with bowed head, for what appeared to be 
a long time. 

A deep silence fell on all present. Even the 
whisperings among the scoffers ceased. 

At last Mr. Henderson slowly raised his head, 
arose, and came to the front of the platform. 
He had a strong, masterful, clean-shaven face, 
with the heavy jaw of a stubborn man a man 
not easily beaten. " Open the door," he said in 
a quiet voice. 

In the last few meetings he had held he had 
found this an effective beginning. It was new 
to his present audience. Usually a knot of 
people stood outside, and if they were there, he 
made an appeal to them, through the open door, 
to enter. If no one was there, he had a lesson 
to impart, based on the silence and the dark- 
ness. In this instance it was hard to say which 
was the more surprised, the revivalist or the 
congregation. Sandy, being on his feet, stepped 
to the door, and threw it open. He was so 
astonished at what he saw that he slid behind 
the open door out of sight. Macdonald stood 
there, against the darkness beyond, in a crouch- 



148 1Tn tbe /BMDst of alarms, 

ing attitude, as if about to spring. He had 
evidently been trying to see what was going on 
through the keyhole ; and, being taken una- 
wares by the sudden opening of the door, had 
not had time to recover himself. No retreat 
was now possible. He stood up with haggard 
face, like a man who has been on a spree, and, 
without a word, walked in. Those on the 
bench in front of Yates moved together a little 
closer, and the blacksmith sat down on the 
vacant space left at the outside. In his con- 
fusion he drew his hand across his brow, and 
snapped his fingers loudly in the silence. A 
few faces at the back wore a grin, and would 
have laughed had not Sandy, closing the door 
quietly, given them one menacing look which 
quelled their merriment. He was not going to 
have the " old man " made fun of in his extrem- 
ity ; and they all had respect enough for Sandy's 
fist not to run the risk of encountering it after 
the meeting was over. Macdonald himself was 
more to be dreaded in a fight ; but the chances 
were that for the next two or three weeks, if the 
revival were a success, there would be no danger 
from that quarter. Sandy, however, was per- 
manently among the unconverted, and therefore 
to be feared, as being always ready to stand up 
for his employer, either with voice or blow. 
The unexpected incident Mr. Benderson had 
witnessed suggested no remarks at the time, 
so, being a wise man, he said nothing. The 
congregation wondered how he had known 
Macdonald was at the door, and none more 
than Macdonald himself. It seemed to many 
that the revivalist had a gift of divination denied 
to themselves, and this belief left them in a 
frame of mind more than ever ready to profit by 
the discourse they were about to hear. 

Mr. Benderson began in a low monotone, 
that nevertheless penetrated to every part of 



1fn tbe .fllMDst of Blarms, 149 

the room. He had a voice of peculiar quality, 
as sweet as the tones of a tenor, and as pleasant 
to hear as music ; now and then there was a 
manly ring in it which thrilled his listeners. 
" A week ago to-night," he said, " at this very 
hour, I stood by the deathbed of one who is 
now among the blessed. It is four years since 
he found salvation, by the mercy of God, through 
the humble instrumentality of the least of his 
servants. It was my blessed privilege to see 
that young man that boy almost pledge his 
soul to Jesus. He was less than twenty when 
he gave himself to Christ, and his hopes of a 
long life were as strong as the hopes of the 
youngest here ^to-night. Yet he was struck 
down in the early flush of manhood struck 
down almost without warning. When I heard 
of his brief illness, although knowing nothing 
of its seriousness, something urged me to go 
to him, and at once. When I reached the house, 
they told me that he had asked to see me, and 
that they had just sent a messenger to the 
telegraph office with a dispatch for me. I 
said: 'God telegraphed to me.' They took 
me to the bedside of my young friend, whom I 
had last seen as hearty and strong as anyone 
here." 

Mr. Benderson then, in a voice quivering with 
emotion, told the story of the deathbed scene. 
His language was simple and touching, and it 
was evident to the most callous auditor that he 
spoke from the heart, describing in pathetic 
words the scene he had witnessed. His un- 
adorned eloquence went straight home to every 
listener, and many an eye dimmed as he put 
before them a graphic picture of the serenity 
attending the end of a well-spent life. 

" As I came through among you to-night," 
he continued, " as you stood together in groups 
outside this building, I caught a chance expres- 



iso 1Fn tbe flMD0t of Blarms. 

sion that one of you uttered. A man was 
speaking of some neighbor who, at this busy 
season of the year, had been unable to get 
help. I think the one to whom this man was 
speaking had asked if the busy man were here, 
and the answer was : ' No ; he has not a minute 
to call his own.' The phrase has haunted me 
since I heard it, less than an hour ago. ' Not 
a minute to call his own ! ' I thought of it as 
I sat before you. I thought of it as I rose to 
address you. I think of it now. Who has a 
minute to call his own ? " The soft tones of 
the preacher's voice had given place to a ring- 
ing cry that echoed from the roof down on 
their heads. " Have you ? Have I ? Has any 
king, any prince, any president, any ruler over 
men, a minute or a moment he can call his 
own ? Not one. Not one of all the teeming 
millions on this earth. The minutes that are 
past are yours. What use have you made of 
them ? All your efforts, all your prayers, will 
not change the deeds done in any one of those 
minutes that are past, and those only are yours. 
The chiseled stone is not more fixed than are 
the deeds of the minutes that are past. Their 
record is for you or against you. But where 
now are those minutes of the future those 
minutes that, from this time onward, you will 
be able to call your own when they are spent ? 
They are in the hand of God in his hand to 
give or to withhold. And who can count them 
in the hand of God ? Not you, not I, not the 
wisest man upon the earth. Man may number 
the miles from here to the farthest visible star ; 
but he cannot tell you, you ; I don't mean your 
neighbor, I mean you, he cannot tell YOU 
whether your minutes are to be one or a thou- 
sand. They are doled out to you, and you are 
responsible for them. But there will come a 
moment, it may be to-night, it may be a year 



f n tfoe /llM&st of Blarms. 151 

hence, when the hand of God will close, and 
you will have had your sum. Then time will 
end for you, and eternity begin. Are you pre- 
pared for that awful moment that moment 
when the last is given you, and the next with- 
held ? What if it came now ? Are you pre- 
pared for it ? Are you ready to welcome it, as 
did our brother who died at this hour one short 
week ago ? His was not the only deathbed 
I have attended. Some scenes have been so 
seared into my brain that I can never forget 
them. A year ago I was called to the bedside 
of a dying man, old in years and old in sin. 
Often had he been called, but he put Christ 
away from him, saying: ' At a more convenient 
season.' He knew the path, but he walked not 
therein. And when at last God's patience 
ended, and this man was stricken down, he, 
foolish to the last, called for me, the servant, 
instead of to God, the Master. When I reached 
his side, the stamp of death was on his face. 
The biting finger of agony had drawn lines 
upon his haggard brow. A great fear was 
upon him, and he gripped my hand with the 
cold grasp of death itself. In that darkened 
room it seemed to me I saw the angel of peace 
standing by the bed, but it stood aloof, as one 
often offended. It seemed to me at the head 
of the bed the demon of eternal darkness bent 
over, whispering to him : ' It is too late ! it is 
too late ! ' The dying man looked at me oh, 
such a look ! May you never be called upon to 
witness its like. He gasped : ' I have lived I 
have lived a sinful life. Is it too late? ' ' No,' 
I said, trembling. ' Say you believe.' His lips 
moved, but no sound came. He died as he had 
lived. The one necessary minute was withheld. 
Do you hear ? // was withheld! He had 
not the minute to call his own. Not that 
minute in which to turn from everlasting dam- 



I 5 2 



1fn tbe /BMfcst of Blarms. 



nation. He went down into hell, dying 
as he had lived." 

The preacher's voice rose until it sounded 
like a trumpet blast. His eyes shone, and his 
face flushed with the fervor of his theme. 
Then followed, as rapidly as words could utter, 
a lurid, awful picture of hell and the day of 
judgment. Sobs and groans were heard in 
every part of the room. " Come now now /" 
he cried. " Now is the appointed time, now is 
the day of salvation. Come now ; and as you 
rise pray God that in his mercy he may spare you 
strength and life to reach the penitent bench." 

Suddenly the preacher ceased talking. 
Stretching out his hands, he broke forth, with 
his splendid tenor voice, into the rousing hymn, 
with its spirited marching time : 




Come, ye sin ners, 
Je susfj read * y 



need y, 
save you, 



3E 


S^ 


fc 


,r-i 


33 






1 


1 1 


J 


-J . 

.Weak 
FuU 


- 

and 
of 


wound 
pit - 


J - 

-ed, 

y. 


<y . , 

sick 
love, 


ffl 

and 
and 


-^ J 

sore ; 
power. 



The whole congregation joined him. Everyone 
knew the words and the tune. It seemed a 
relief to the pent-up feelings to sing at the top 
of the voice. The chorus rose like a triumphal 
march : 





,A ^ ^ ^ _ 


^ j ^ _ i 


HE3 

=&fc 


Turn to 

.+* f~ 


the Lord. 

+T- 


z^zi-L. 

and seek 
]_ 


sal - 

=*= 


'va - tion, 

J '| 


%= 


+- E 


f- 


4^ 


j 




_ cl ] 



Sound the praise 



of His dear Name;' 



1Tn tbe /lif&st of Sla 

** j j J j | I 


cms. 153 

T5 * . J .. 




. .m 


"^ LJ^- 



i 



Glo 'ry, hon - our, and sal va - tion, 

4 . I = 



Christ . :. the Lord has come to reign. 

As the congregation sang the preacher in 
stentorian tones urged sinners to seek the Lord 
while he was yet to be found. 

Yates felt the electric thrill in the air, and he 
tugged at his collar, as if he were choking. He 
could not understand the strange exaltation that 
had come over him. It seemed as if he must 
cry aloud. All those around him were much 
moved. There were now no scoffers at the back 
of the room. Most of them seemed frightened, 
and sat looking one at the other. It only 
needed a beginning, and the penitent bench 
would be crowded. Many eyes were turned on 
Macdonald. His face was livid, and great 
beads of perspiration stood on his brow. His 
strong hand clutched the back of the seat be- 
fore him, and the muscles stood out on the 
portion of his arm that was bare. He stared 
like a hypnotized man at the preacher. His 
teeth were set, and he breathed hard, as would 
a man engaged in a struggle. At last the hand 
of the preacher seemed to be pointed directly at 
him. He rose tremblingly to his feet and stag- 

fered down the aisle, flinging himself on his 
nees, with his head on his arms, beside the 
penitent bench, groaning aloud. 

" Bless the Lord ! " cried the preacher. 
It was the starting of the avalanche. Up the 
aisle, with pale faces, many with tears stream- 
ing from their eyes, walked the young men and 
the old. Mothers, with joy in their hearts and 
a prayer on their lips, saw their sons fall pros- 



154 1Tn tbe jfflMfcst of Blarme, 

trate before the penitent bench. Soon the con- 
trite had to kneel wherever they could. The 
ringing salvation march filled the air, mingled 
with cries of joy and devout ejaculations. 

" God ! " cried Yates, tearing off his collar, 
" what is the matter with me ? I never felt like 
this before. I must get into the open air." 

He made for the door, and escaped un- 
noticed in the excitement of the moment. He 
stood for a time by the fence outside, breathing 
deeply of the cool, sweet air. The sound of 
the hymn came faintly to him. He clutched 
the fence, fearing he was about to faint. Par- 
tially recovering himself at last, he ran with all 
his might up the road, while there rang in his 
ears the marching words : 



<i JrC 




*=b^U^ 



Turn to the Lord, and seek sal va tion, 



2 



Sound ifie praise t His dear Kame>. 



/PS i. 

t/ 



Glo ry hon> "*" oun ^2ih(l aial va - tion, 



the Lord had come xa reign* 



CHAPTER XIV. 

WHEN people are thrown together, especially 
when they are young, the mutual relationship 
existing between them rarely remains stationary. 
It drifts toward like or dislike ; and cases have 
been known where it progressed into love or 
hatred. 

Stillson Renmark and Margaret Howard be- 
came at least very firm friends. Each of them 
would have been ready to admit this much. 
These two had a good foundation on which to 
build up an acquaintance in the fact that Mar- 
garet's brother was a student in the univer- 
sity of which the professor was a worthy mem- 
ber. They had also a subject of difference, 
which, if it leads not to heated argument, but is 
soberly discussed, lends itself even more to the 
building of friendship than subjects of agree- 
ment. Margaret held, as has been indicated 
in a previous chapter, that the university was 
wrong in closing its doors to women. Ren- 
mark, up to the time of their first conversation 
on the subject, had given the matter but little 
thought ; yet he developed an opinion contrary 
to that of Margaret, and was too honest a man, 
or too little of a diplomatist, to conceal it. On 
one occasion Yates had been present, and he 
threw himself, with the energy that distin- 
guished him, into the woman side of the question 
cordially agreeing with Margaret, citing in- 
stances, and holding those who were against 
the admission of women up to ridicule, taunt- 

155 



156 fit tbe /flMfcst of Blarms. 

ing them with fear of feminine competition. 
Margaret became silent as the champion of her 
cause waxed the more eloquent ; but whether 
she liked Richard Yates the better for his 
championship who that is not versed in the 
ways of women can say ? As the hope of win- 
ning her regard was the sole basis of Yates' 
uncompromising views on the subject, it is 
likely that he was successful, for his experiences 
with the sex were large and varied. Margaret 
was certainly attracted toward Renmark, whose 
deep scholarship even his excessive self-de- 
preciation could not entirely conceal ; and he, 
in turn, had naturally a schoolmaster's enthu- 
siasm over a pupil who so earnestly desired ad- 
vancement in knowledge. Had he described 
his feelings to Yates, who was an expert in 
many matters, he would perhaps have learned 
that he was in love ; but Renmark was a reti- 
cent man, not much given either to introspec- 
tion or to being lavish with his confidences. 
As to Margaret, who can plummet the depth 
of a young girl's regard until she herself gives 
some indication ? All that one is able to re- 
cord is that she was kinder to Yates than she 
had been at the beginning. 

Miss Kitty Bartlett probably would not have 
denied that she had a sincere liking for the con- 
ceited young man from New York. Renmark 
fell into the error of thinking Miss Kitty a frivo- 
lous young person, whereas she was merely a 
girl who had an inexhaustible fund of high 
spirits, and one who took a most deplorable 
pleasure in shocking a serious man. Even 
Yates made a slight mistake regarding her on 
one occasion, when they were having an even- 
ing walk together, with that freedom from 
chaperonage which is the birthright of every 
American girl, whether she belongs to a farm- 
house or to the palace of a millionaire. 



1fn tbe /iJM&st of Blarm0, 157 

In describing the incident afterward to Ren- 
mark (for Yates had nothing of his comrade's 
reserve in these matters) he said : 

" She left a diagram of her four fingers on 
my cheek that felt like one of those raised maps 
of Switzerland. I have before now felt the tap 
of a lady's fan in admonition, but never in my 
life have I met a gentle reproof that felt so 
much like a censure from the paw of our friend 
Tom Sayers." 

Renmark said with some severity that he 
hoped Yates would not forget that he was, in a 
measure, a guest of his neighbors. 

" Oh, that's all right," said Yates. " If you 
have any spare sympathy to bestow, keep it for 
me. My neighbors are amply able, and more 
than willing, to take care of themselves." 

And now as to Richard Yates himself. One 
would imagine that here, at least, a conscien- 
tious relater of events would have an easy task. 
Alas ! such is far from being the fact. The case 
of Yates was by all odds the most complex and 
bewildering of the four. He was deeply and 
truly in love with both of the girls. Instances of 
this kind are not so rare as a young man newly 
engaged to an innocent girl tries to make her 
believe.^ Cases have been known where a 
chance v meeting with one girl, and not with 
another, has settled who was to be a young 
man's companion during a long life. Yates 
felt that in multitude of counsel there is wisdom, 
and made no secret of his perplexity to his 
friend. He complained sometimes that he got 
"little help toward the solution of the problem, 
but generally he was quite content to sit under 
the trees with Renmark and weigh the different 
advantages of each of the girls. He sometimes 
appealed to his friend, as a man with a mathe- 
matical turn of mind, possessing an education 
that extended far into conic sections and alge- 



158 1Fn tbe /IlM&st of Blarms. 

braic formulae, to balance up the lists, and give 
him a candid and statistical opinion as to which 
of the two he should favor with serious pro- 
posals. When these appeals for help were 
coldly received, he accused his friend of lack of 
sympathy with his dilemma, said that he was 
a soulless man, and that if he had a heart it 
had become incrusted with the useless debris 
of a higher education, and swore to confide in 
him no more. He would search for a friend, 
he said, who had something human about him. 
The search for the sympathetic friend, however, 
seemed to be unsuccessful ; for Yates always re- 
turned to Renmark, to have, as he remarked, ice 
water dashed upon his duplex-burning passion. 

It was a lovely afternoon in the latter part of 
May, 1866, and Yates was swinging idly in the 
hammock, with his hands clasped under his head, 
gazing dreamily up at the patches of blue sky 
seen through the green branches of the trees 
overhead, while his industrious friend was un- 
romantically peeling potatoes near the door of 
the tent. 

" The human heart, Renny," said the man 
in the hammock reflectively, " is a remarkable 
organ, when you come to think of it. I pre- 
sume, from your lack of interest, that you 
haven't given the subject much study, except, 
perhaps, in a physiological way. At the present 
moment it is to me the only theme worthy of a. 
man's entire attention. Perhaps that is the result 
of spring, as the poet says ; but, anyhow, it pre- 
sents new aspects to me each hour. Now, I have 
made this important discovery : that the girl I 
am with last seems to me the most desirable. 
That is contrary to the observation of philoso- 
phers of bygone days. Absence makes the 
heart grow fonder, they say. I don't find it so. 
Presence is what plays the very deuce with me. 
Now, how do you account for it, Stilly ? " 



1fn tbe /BMtet of Blarms, 159 

The professor did not attempt to account for 
it, but silently attended to the business in hand, 
Yates withdrew his eyes from the sky, and fixed 
them on the professor, waiting for the answer 
that did not come. 

"Mr. Renmark," he drawled at last, " I am 
convinced that your treatment of the potato is 
a mistake. I think potatoes should not be 
peeled the day before, and left to soak in cold 
water until to-morrow's dinner. Of course I 
admire the industry that gets work well over 
before its results are called for. Nothing is 
more annoying than work left untouched until 
the last moment, and then hurriedly done. 
Still, virtue may be carried to excess, and a man 
may be too previous." 

" Well, I am quite willing to relinquish the 
work into your hands. You may perhaps re- 
member that for two days I have been doing 
your share as well as my own." 

" Oh, I am not complaining about that, at 
all," said the hammock magnanimously. " You 
are acquiring practical knowledge, Renny, that 
will be of more use to you than all the learning 
taught at the schools. My only desire is that 
your education should be as complete as pos- 
sible, and to this end I am willing to sub- 
ordinate my own yearning desire for scullery 
work. I should suggest that, instead of going 
to the trouble of entirely removing the covering 
of the potato in that laborious way, you should 
merely peel a belt around its greatest circum- 
ference. Then, rather than cook the potatoes 
in the slow and soggy manner that seems to 
delight you, you should boil them quickly, with 
some salt placed in the water. The remaining 
coat would then curl outward, and the resulting 
potato would be white and dry and mealy, in- 
stead of being in the condition of a wet sponge." 

" The beauty of a precept, Yates, is the illus- 



160 i[n tbe /ifctost of Blarms, 

trating of it. If you are not satisfied with my 
way of boiling potatoes, give me a practical 
object lesson." 

The man in the hammock sighed reproach- 
fully. 

" Of course an unimaginative person like you, 
Renmark, cannot realize the cruelty of suggest- 
ing that a man as deeply in love as I am should 
demean himself by attending to the prosaic 
details of household affairs. I am doubly in 
love, and much more, therefore, as that old 
bore Euclid used to say, is your suggestion 
unkind and uncalled for." 

" All right, then ; don't criticise." 

" Yes, there is a certain sweet reasonableness 
in your curt suggestion. A man who is unable, 
or unwilling, to work in the vineyard should not 
find fault with the pickers. And now, Renny, 
for the hundredth time of asking, add to the 
many obligations already conferred, and tell me, 
like the good fellow you are, what you would do 
if you were in my place. To which of those 
two charming, but totally unlike, girls would 
you give the preference ? " 

" Damn ! " said the professor quietly. 

" Hello, Renny ! " cried Yates, raising his 
head. " Have you cut your finger ? I should 
have warned you about using too sharp a knife." 

But the professor had not cut his finger. 
His use of the word given above is not to be 
defended ; still, as it was spoken by him, it 
seemed to lose all relationship with swearing. 
He said it quietly, mildly, and, in a certain 
sense, innocently. He was astonished at him- 
self for using it, but there had been moments 
during the past few days when the ordinary 
expletives used in the learned volumes of higher 
mathematics did not fit the occasion. 

Before anything more could be said there 
was a shout from the roadway near them. 



1fn tbe /BMDst of Blarme, 161 

" Is Richard Yates there ? " hailed the voice. 

" Yes. Who wants him ? " cried Yates, 
springing out of the hammock. 

" I do," said a young fellow on horseback. 
He threw himself off a tired horse, tied the 
animal to a sapling, which, judging by the 
horse's condition, was an entirely unneces- 
sary operation, jumped over the rail fence, and 
approached through the woods. The young 
men saw, coming toward them, a tall lad in the 
uniform of the telegraph service. 

"I'm Yates. What is it?" 

" Well," said the lad, " I've had a hunt and a 
half for you. Here's a telegram." 

" How in the world did you find out where I 
was ? Nobody has my address." 

" That's just the trouble. It would have 
saved somebody in New York a pile of money 
if you had left it. No man ought to go to the 
woods without leaving his address at a tele- 
graph office, anyhow." The young man looked 
at the world from a telegraph point of view. 
People were good or bad according to the 
trouble they gave a telegraph messenger. 
Yates took the yellow envelope, addressed in 
lead pencil, but, without opening it, repeated his 
question : 

" But how on earth did you find me ? " 

" Well, it wasn't easy," said the boy. " My 
horse is about done out. I'm from Buffalo. 
They telegraphed from New York that we were 
to spare no expense ; and we haven't. There 
are seven other fellows scouring the country on 
horseback with duplicates of that dispatch, and 
some more have gone along the lake shore on 
the American side. Say, no other messenger 
has been here before me, has he ? " asked the 
boy with a touch of anxiety in his voice. 

" No ; you are the first." 

" I'm glad of that. I've been 'most all over 



162 ifn tbe /DMfcst of Blarme. 

Canada. I got on your trail about two hours 
ago, and the folks at the farmhouse down 
below said you were up here. Is there any 
answer ? " 

Yates tore open the envelope. The dispatch 
was long, and he read it with a deepening 
frown. It was to this effect : 

" Fenians crossing into Canada at Buffalo. You are 
near the spot ; get there as quick as possible. Five of 
our men leave for Buffalo to-night. General O'Neill 
is in command of Fenian army. He will give you 
every facility when you tell him who you are. When 
five arrive, they will report to you. Place one or two 
with Canadian troops. Get one to hold the telegraph 
wire, and send over all the stuff the wire will carry. 
Draw on us for cash you need ; and don't spare 
expense." 

When Yates finished the reading of this, he 
broke forth into a line of language that aston- 
ished Renmark, and drew forth the envious 
admiration of the Buffalo telegraph boy. 

" Heavens and earth and the lower regions ! 
I'm here on my vacation. I'm not going to 
jump into work for all the papers in New York. 
Why couldn't those fools of Fenians stay at 
home? The idiots don't know when they're 
well off. The Fenians be hanged ! " 

" Guess that's what they will be," said the 
telegraph boy. " Any answer, sir ? " 

" No. Tell 'em you couldn't find me." 

" Don't expect the boy to tell a lie," said the 
professor, speaking for the first time. 

" Oh, I don't mind a lie ! " exclaimed the boy, 
" but not that one. No, sir. I've had too much 
trouble finding you. I'm not going to pretend 
I'm no good. I started out for to find you, and 
I have. But I'll tell any other lie you like, Mr. 
Yates, if it will oblige you." 

Yates recognized in the boy the same emulous 
desire to outstrip his fellows that had influenced 



1Fn tbe dlM&et of alarms, 163 

himself when he was a young reporter, and he 
at once admitted the injustice of attempting to 
deprive him of the fruits of his enterprise. 

" No," he said, " that won't do. No ; you 
have found me, and you're a young fellow who 
will be president of the telegraph company 
some day, or perhaps hold the less important 
office of the United States presidency. Who 
knows ? Have you a telegraph blank ? " 

" Of course," said the boy, fishing out a bun- 
dle from the leathern wallet by his side. Yates 
took the paper, and flung himself down under 
the tree. 

" Here's a pencil," said the messenger. 

" A newspaper man is never without a pencil, 
thank you," replied Yates, taking one out of 
his inside pocket. " Now, Renmark, I'm not 
going to tell a lie on this occasion," he con- 
tinued. 

" I think the truth is better on all occa- 
sions." 

" Right you are. So here goes for the solid 
truth." 

Yates, as he lay on the ground, wrote rapidly 
on the telegraph blank. Suddenly he looked 
up and said to the professor : " Say, Renmark, 
are you a doctor ? " 

" Of laws," replied his friend. 

" Oh, that will do just as well." And he 
finished his writing. 

" How is this ? " he cried, holding the paper 
at arm's length : 

" L. F. SPENCER, 

" Managing Editor Argus? New York: 
" I'm flat on my back. Haven't done a hand's turn 
for a week. Am under the constant care, night and 
day, of one of the most eminent doctors in Canada, who 
even prepares my food for me. Since leaving New 
York trouble of the heart has complicated matters, 
and at present baffles the doctor. Consultations daily. 



164 Un tbe /HMfcst of Blarms. 

It is impossible for me to move from here until present 
complications have yielded to treatment. 

" Simson would be a good man to take charge in my 
absence. " YATES. ., 

" There," said Yates, with a tone of satisfac- 
tion, when he had finished the reading. 
" What do you think of that ? " 

The professor frowned, but did not answer. 
The boy, who partly saw through it, but not 
quite, grinned, and said : " Is it true ? " 

"Of course it's true!" cried Yates, indig- 
nant at the unjust suspicion. " It is a great 
deal more true than you have any idea of. Ask 
the doctor, there, if it isn't true. Now, my boy, 
will you give this in when you get back to the 
office ? Tell 'em to rush it through to New 
York. I would mark it ' rush,' only that never 
does any good, and always makes the operator 
mad." 

The boy took the paper, and put it in his 
wallet. 

" It's to be paid for at the other end," con- 
tinued Yates. 

" Oh, that's all right," answered the mes- 
senger with a certain condescension, as if he 
were giving credit on behalf of the company. 
" Well, so long," he added. " I hope you'll 
soon be better, Mr. Yates." 

Yates sprang to his feet with a laugh, and 
followed him to the fence. 

" Now, youngster, you are up to snuff, I can 
see that. They'll perhaps question you when 
you get back. What will you say ? " 

" Oh, I'll tell 'em what a hard job I had to 
find you, and let 'em know nobody else could 
'a' done it, and I'll say you're a pretty sick man. 
I won't tell 'em you gave me a dollar ! " 

" Right you are, sonny ; you'll get along. 
Here's five dollars, all in one bill. If you meet 
any other of the messengers, take them back 



1fn tbe /BMDst of Blarms, 165 

with you. There's no use of their wasting 
valuable time in this little neck of the woods." 

The boy stuffed the bill into his vest pocket 
as carelessly as if it represented cents instead of 
dollars, mounted his tired horse, and waved his 
hand in farewell to the newspaper man. Yates 
turned and walked slowly back to the tent. He 
threw himself once more into the hammock. 
As he expected, the professor was more taci- 
turn than ever, and, although he had been pre- 
pared for silence, the silence irritated him. He 
felt ill used at having so unsympathetic a com- 
panion. 

" Look here, Renmark ; why don't you say 
something? " 

" There is nothing to say." 

" Oh, yes, there is. You don't approve of me, 
do you ? " 

" I don't suppose it makes any difference 
whether I approve or not." 

" Oh, yes, it does. A man likes to have the 
approval of even the humblest of his fellow- 
creatures. Say, what will you take in cash to 
approve of me? People talk of the tortures of 
conscience, but you are more uncomfortable 
than the most cast-iron conscience any man 
ever had. One's own conscience one can deal 
with, but a conscience in the person of another 
man is beyond one's control. Now, it is like 
this : I am here for quiet and rest. I have 
earned both, and I think I am justified in " 

" Now, Mr. Yates, please spare me any 
cheap philosophy on the question. I am tired 
of it." 

" And of me, too, I suppose ? " 

"Well, yes, rather if you want to know." 

Yates sprang out of the hammock. For the 
first time since the encounter with Bartlett on 
the road Renmark saw that he was thoroughly 
angry. The reporter stood with clenched fists 



166 un tbe dlMDst of Blatms. 

and flashing eyes, hesitating. The other, his 
heavy brows drawn, while not in an aggressive 
attitude, was plainly ready for an attack. Yates 
concluded to speak, and not to strike. This 
was not because he was afraid, for he was not 
a coward. The reporter realized that he had 
forced the conversation, and remembered he 
had invited Renmark to accompany him. Al- 
though this recollection stayed his hand, it had 
no effect on his tongue. 

" I believe," he said slowly, " that it would do 
you good for once to hear a straight, square, 
unbiased opinion of yourself. You have 
associated so long with pupils, to whom your 
word is law, that it may interest you to know 
what a man of the world thinks of you. A few 
years of schoolmastering is enough to spoil an 
archangel. Now, I think, of all the " 

The sentence was interrupted by a cry from 
the fence: 

" Say, do you gentlemen know where a fellow 
named Yates lives ? " 

The reporter's hand dropped to his side. A 
look of dismay came over his face, and his 
truculent manner changed with a suddenness 
that forced a smile even to the stern lips of 
Renmark. 

Yates backed toward the hammock like a 
man who had received an unexpected blow. 

" I say, Renny," he wailed, " it's another of 
those cursed telegraph messengers. Go, like 
a good fellow, and sign for the dispatch. Sign 
it 'Dr. Renmark, for R. Yates.' That will 

five it a sort of official, medical-bulletin look, 
wish I had thought of that when the other 
boy was here. Tell him I'm lying down." He 
flung himself into the hammock, and Renmark, 
after a moment's hesitation, walked toward the 
boy at the fence, who had repeated his question 
in a louder voice. In a short time he returned 



1Tn tbe /BMDst of Blarms, 167 

with the yellow envelope, which he tossed to 
the man in the hammock. Yates seized it 
savagely, tore it into a score of pieces, and 
scattered the fluttering bits around him on the 
ground. The professor stood there for a few 
moments in silence. 

" Perhaps," he said at last, " you'll be good 
enough to go on with your remarks." 

" I was merely going to say," answered 
Yates wearily, " that you are a mighty good 
fellow, Renny. People who camp out always 
have rows. That is our first ; suppose we let 
it be the last. Camping out is something like 
married life, I guess, and requires some for- 
bearance on both sides. That philosophy may 
be cheap, but I think it is accurate. I am really 
very much worried about this newspaper busi- 
ness. I ought, of course, to fling myself into 
the chasm like that Roman fellow ; but, hang 
it ! I've been flinging myself into chasms for 
fifteen years, and what good has it done? 
There's always a crisis in a daily newspaper 
office. I want them to understand in the 
Argus office that I am on my vacation." 

" They will be more apt to understand from 
the telegram that you're on your deathbed." 

Yates laughed. " That's so," he said ; "but, 
you see, Renny, we New Yorkers live in such 
an atmosphere of exaggeration that if I did not 
put it strongly it wouldn't have any effect. 
You've got to give a big dose to a man who 
has been taking poison all his life. They will 
take off ninety per cent, from any statement I 
make, anyhow ; so, you see, I have to pile it up 
pretty high before the remaining ten per cent, 
amounts to anything." 

The conversation was interrupted by the 
crackling of the dry twigs behind them, and 
Yates, who had been keeping his eye nerv- 
ously on the fence, turned round. Young 



i68 ifn tbe flfctost of Blarms, 

Bartlett pushed his way through the under- 
brush. His face was red ; he had evidently 
been running. 

" Two telegrams for you, Mr. Yates," he 
panted. " The fellows that brought 'em said 
they were important ; so I ran out with them 
myself, for fear they wouldn't find you. One 
of them's from Port Colborne, the other's from 
Buffalo." 

Telegrams were rare on the farm, and young 
Bartlett looked on the receipt of one as an 
event in a man's life. He was astonished to see 
Yates receive the double event with a listless- 
ness that he could not help thinking was merely 
assumed for effect. Yates held them in his 
hand, and did not tear them up at once out of 
consideration for the feelings of the young man, 
who had had a race to deliver them. 

" Here's two books they wanted you to sign. 
They're tired out, and mother's giving them 
something to eat." 

" Professor, you sign for me, won't you ? " 
said Yates. 

Bartlett lingered a moment, hoping that he 
would hear something of the contents of the 
important messages ; but Yates did not even 
open the envelopes, although he thanked the 
young man heartily for bringing them. 

" Stuck-up cuss ! " muttered young Bartlett 
to himself, as he shoved the signed books into 
his pocket and pushed his way through the 
underbrush again. Yates slowly and methodic- 
ally tore the envelopes and their contents into 
little pieces, and scattered them as before. 

11 Begins to look like autumn," he said, " with 
the yellow leaves strewing the ground." 



CHAPTER XV. 

BEFORE night three more telegraph boys 
found Yates, and three more telegrams in sec- 
tions helped to carpet the floor of the forest. 
The usually high spirits of the newspaper man 
went down and clown under the repeated 
visitations. At last he did not even swear, 
which, in the case of Yates, always indicated 
extreme depression. As night drew on he 
feebly remarked to the professor that he was 
more tired than he had ever been in going 
through an election campaign. He went to his 
tent bunk early, in a state of such utter dejec- 
tion that Ren mark felt sorry for him, and tried 
ineffectually to cheer him up. 

" If they would all come together," said Yates 
bitterly, " so that one comprehensive effort of 
malediction would include the lot and have it 
over, it wouldn't be so bad ; but this constant 
dribbling in of messengers would wear out the 
patience of a saint." 

As he sat in his shirt sleeves on the edge of 
his bunk Renmark said that things would look 
brighter in the morning which was a safe 
remark to make, for the night was dark. 

Yates sat silently, with his head in his hands, 
for some moments. At last he said slowly : 
" There is no one so obtuse as the thoroughly 
good man. It is not the messenger I am afraid 
of, after all. He is but the outward symptom 
of the inward trouble. What you are seeing 
is an example of the workings of conscience 
where you thought conscience was absent. 

169 



1 70 1fn tbe jfflM&st of Blarme. 

The trouble with me is that I know the news- 
paper depends on me, and that it will be the 
first time I have failed. It is the newspaper 
man's instinct to be in the center of the fray. 
He yearns to scoop the opposition press. I 
will get a night's sleep if I can, and to-morrow, 
I know, I shall capitulate. I will hunt out 
General O'Neill, and interview him on the field 
of slaughter. I will telegraph pages. I will 
refurbish my military vocabulary, and speak of 
deploying and massing and throwing out 
advance guards, and that sort of thing. I will 
move detachments and advance brigades, and 
invent strategy. We will have desperate fight- 
ing in the columns of the Argus, whatever 
there is on the fields of Canada. But to a man 
who has seen real war this optra-bouffe mas- 
querade of fighting I don't want to say 

anything harsh, but to me it is offensive." 

He looked up with a wan smile at his partner, 
sitting on the bottom of an upturned pail, as he 
said this. Then he reached for his hip pocket 
and drew out a revolver, which he handed, butt- 
end forward, to the professor, who, not knowing 
his friend carried such an instrument, instinc- 
tively shrank from it. 

" Here, Renny, take this weapon of devasta- 
tion and soak it with the potatoes. If another 
messenger comes in on me to-night, I know I 
shall riddle him if I have this handy. My 
better judgment tells me he is innocent, and I 
don't want to shed the only blood that will be 
spilled during this awful campaign." 

How long they had been asleep they did not 
know, as the ghost-stories have it, but both 
were suddenly awakened by a commotion out- 
side. It was intensely dark inside the tent, 
but as the two sat up they noticed a faint 
moving blur of light, which made itself just 
visible through the canvas. 



1Fn tbe flfetost of alarms, 171 

" It's another of those fiendish messengers," 
whispered Yates. " Gi' me that revolver." 

" Hush ! " said the other below his breath. 
" There's about a dozen men out there, judging 
by the footfalls. I heard them coming." 

" Let's fire into the tent and be done with 
it," said a voice outside. 

"No, no," cried another; "no man shoot. 
It makes too much noise, and there must be 
others about. Have ye all got yer bayonets 
fixed?" 

There was a murmur, apparently in the 
affirmative. 

"Very well, then. Murphy and O'Rourick, 
come round to this side. You three stay where 
you are. Tim, you go to that end ; and, 
Doolin, come with me." 

" The Fenian army, by all the gods ! " whis- 
pered Yates, groping for his clothes. " Renny, 
give me that revolver, and I'll show you more 
fun than a funeral." 

" No, no. They're at least three to our one. 
We're in a trap here, and helpless." 

" Oh, just let me jump out among 'em and 
begin the fireworks. Those I didn't shoot 
would die of fright. Imagine scouts scouring 
the woods with a lantern with a lantern, 
Renny ! Think of that ! Oh, this is pie ! Let 
me at 'em." 

" Hush ! Keep quiet ! They'll hear you." 

" Tim, bring the lantern round to this side." 
The blur of light moved along the canvas. 
" There's a man with his back against the wall 
of the tent. Just touch him up with your bayo- 
net, Murphy, and let him know we're here." 

" There may be twenty in the tent," said 
Murphy cautiously. 

" Do what I tell you," answered the man in 
command. 

Murphy progged his bayonet through the 



i72 1fn tbe flfctost of alarms. 

canvas, and sunk the deadly point of the instru- 
ment into the bag of potatoes. 

" Faith, he sleeps sound," said Murphy with 
a tremor of fear in his voice, as there was no 
demonstration on the part of the bag. 

The voice of Yates rang out from the interior 
of the tent : 

" What the old Harry do you fellows think 
you're doing, anyhow? What's the matter 
with you ? What do you want ? " 

There was a moment's silence, broken only 
by a nervous scuffling of feet and the clicking 
of gun-locks. 

" How many are there of you in there ? " said 
the stern voice of the chief. 

" Two, if you want to know, both unarmed, 
and one ready to fight the lot of you if you are 
anxious for a scrimmage." 

" Come out one by one," was the next com- 
mand. 

" We'll come out one by one," said Yates, 
emerging in his shirt sleeves, " but you can't ex- 
pect us to keep it up long, as there are only two 
of us." 

The professor next appeared, with his coat on. 
The situation certainly did not look inviting. 
The lantern on the ground threw up a pallid 
glow on the severe face of the commander, as 
the footlights might illuminate the figure of a 
brigand in a wood on the stage. The face of 
the officer showed that he was greatly impressed 
with the importance and danger of his position. 
Yates glanced about him with a smile, all his 
recent dejection gone now that he was in the 
midst of a row. 

"Which is Murphy," he said, " and which is 
Doolin ? Hello, alderman ! " he cried, as his 
eyes rested on one tall, strapping, red-haired 
man who held his bayonet ready to charge, 
with a fierce determination in his face that 



1Tn tbe /liMDst of Blatma* 173 

might have made an opponent quail. " When 
did you leave New York ? and who's running 
the city now that you're gone ? " 

The men had evidently a sense of humor, in 
spite of their bloodthirsty business, for a smile 
flickered on their faces in the lantern light, and 
several bayonets were unconsciously lowered. 
But the hard face of the commander did not relax. 

" You are doing yourself no good by your 
talk," he said solemnly. " What you say will 
be used against you." 

" Yes, and what you do will be used against 
you ; and don't forget that fact. It's you who 
are in danger not I. You are, at this moment, 
making about the biggest ass of yourself there 
is in Canada." 

" Pinion these men ! " cried the captain gruffly. 

" Pinion nothing ! " shouted Yates, shaking 
off the grasp of a man who had sprung to his 
side. But both Yates and Renmark were 
speedily overpowered ; and then an unseen 
difficulty presented itself. Murphy pathetically 
remarked that they had no rope. The captain 
was a man of resource. 

" Cut enough rope from the tent to tie them." 

" And when you're at it, Murphy," said 
Yates, " cut off enough more to hang yourself 
with. You'll need it before long. And remem- 
ber that any damage you do to that tent you'll 
have to pay for. It's hired." 

Yates gave them all the trouble he could 
while they tied his elbows and wrists together, 
offering sardonic suggestions and cursing 
their clumsiness. Renmark submitted quietly. 
When the operation was finished, the professor 
said with the calm confidence of one who has 
an empire behind him and knows it : 

" I warn you, sir, that this outrage is com- 
mitted on British soil ; and that I, on whom it 
is committed, am a British subject.". 



174 1Fn tbe dlMDst of aiarma, 

" Heavens and earth, Renmark, if you find it 
impossible to keep your mouth shut, do not use 
the word ' subject,' but ' citizen.' " 

" I am satisfied with the word, and with the 
protection given to those who use it." 

" Look here, Renmark ; you had better let me 
do the talking. You will only put your foot in 
it. I know the kind of men I have to deal with ; 
you evidently don't." 

In tying the professor they came upon the 
pistol in his coat pocket. Murphy held it up to 
the light. 

" I thought you said you were unarmed ? " 
remarked the captain severely, taking the 
revolver in his hand. 

" I was unarmed. The revolver is mine, but 
the professor would not let me use it. If he 
had, all of you would be running for dear life 
through the woods." 

" You admit that you are a British subject ? " 
said the captain to Renmark, ignoring Yates. 

" He doesn't admit it, he brags of it," said the 
latter before Renmark could speak. " You 
can't scare him ; so quit this fooling, and let us 
know how long we are to stand here trussed up 
like this." 

" I propose, captain," said the red-headed 
man, " that we shoot these men where they 
stand, and report to the general. They are 
spies. They are armed, and they denied it. 
It's according to the rules of war, captain." 

" Rules of war ? What do you know of the 
rules of war, you red-headed Senegambian ? 
Rules of Hoyle ! Your line is digging sewers, 
I imagine. Come, captain,, undo these ropes, 
and make up your mind quickly. Trot us 
along to General O'Neill just as fast as you can. 
The sooner you get us there the more time you 
will have for being sorry over what you have 
done." 



1Tn tbe dfetost of Blatms, 175 

The captain still hesitated, and looked from 
one to the other of his men, as if to make up 
his mind whether they would obey him if he 
went to extremities. Yates' quick eye noted 
that the two prisoners had nothing to hope for, 
even from the men who smiled. The shooting 
of two unarmed and bound men seemed to 
them about the correct way of beginning a 
great struggle for freedom. 

" Well," said the captain at length, " we must 
do it in proper form, so I suppose we should 
have a court-martial. Are you agreed ? " 

They were unanimously agreed. 

" Look here," cried Yates, and there was a 
certain impressiveness in his voice in spite of his 
former levity ; " this farce has gone just as far 
as it is going. Go inside the tent, there, and in 
my coat pocket you will find a telegram, the 
first of a dozen or two received by me within 
the last twenty-four hours. Then you will see 
whom you propose to shoot." 

The telegram was found, and the captain 
read it, while Tim held the lantern. He looked 
from under his knitted brows at the newspaper 
man. 

" Then you are one of the Argus staff." 

" I am chief of the Argits staff. As you see, 
five of my men will be with General O'Neill to- 
morrow. The first question they will ask him 
will be: 'Where is Yates?' The next thing 
that will happen will be that you will be 
hanged for your stupidity, not by Canada 
nor by the State of New York, but by your 
general, who will curse your memory ever 
after. You are fooling not with a subject 
this time, but with a citizen ; and your general 
is not such an idiot as to monkey with the 
United States Government ; and, what is a 
blamed sight worse, with the great American 
press. Come, captain, we've had enough of 



176 1fn tbe fllM&st of Blarme, 

this. Cut these cords just as quickly as you 
can, and take us to the general. We were 
going to see him in the morning, anyhow." 

" But this man says he is a Canadian." 

" That's all right. My friend is me. If you 
touch him, you touch me. Now, hurry up. 
climb down from your perch. I shall have 
enough trouble now, getting the general to for- 
give all the blunders you have made to-night, 
without your adding insult to injury. Tell 
your men to untie us, and throw the ropes back 
into the tent. It will soon be daylight. Hustle, 
and let us be off." 

" Untie them," said the captain, with a 
sigh. 

Yates shook himself when his arms regained 
their freedom. 

" Now, Tim," he said, " run into that tent 
and bring out my coat. It's chilly here." 

Tim did instantly as requested, and helped 
Yates on with the coat. 

" Good boy ! " said Yates. " You've evi- 
dently been porter in a hotel." 

Tim grinned. 

" I think," said Yates meditatively, " that if 
you look under the right-hand bunk, Tim, you 
will find a jug. It belongs to the professor, 
although he has hidden it under my bed to 
divert suspicion from himself. Just fish it out 
and bring it here. It is not as full as it was, 
but there's enough to go round, if the professor 
does not take more than his share." 

The gallant troop smacked their lips in an- 
ticipation, and Renmark looked astonished to 
see the jar brought forth. " You first, pro- 
fessor," said Yates ; and Tim innocently offered 
him the vessel. The learned man shook his 
head. Yates laughed, and took it himself. 

" Well, here's to you, boys," he said. " And 
may you all get back as safely to New York as 



1Tn tbe jfflbftet of Hlatm0, 177 

I will." The jar passed down along the line, 
until Tim finished its contents. 

" Now, then, for the camp of the Fenian 
army," cried Yates, taking Renmark's arm ; 
and they began their march through the woods. 
" Great Caesar ! Stilly," he continued to his 
friend, " this is rest and quiet with a vengeance, 
isn't it ? " 



CHAPTER XVI. 

THE Fenians, feeling that they had to put their 
best foot foremost in the presence of their 
prisoners, tried at first to maintain something 
like military order in marching through the 
woods. They soon found, however, that this 
was a difficult thing to do, Canadian forests 
are not as trimly kept as English parks. Tim 
walked on ahead with the lantern, but three 
times he tumbled over some obstruction, and 
disappeared suddenly from view, uttering male- 
dictions. His final effort in this line was a 
triumph. He fell over the lantern and smashed 
it. When all attempts at reconstruction failed, 
the party tramped on in go-as-you-please 
fashion, and found they did better without the 
light than with it. In fact, although it was not 
yet four o'clock, daybreak was already filtering 
through the trees, and the woods were percep- 
tibly lighter. 

" We must be getting near the camp/' said 
the captain. 

" Will I shout, sir ? " asked Murphy. 

" No, no ; we can't miss it. Keep on as you 
are doing." 

They were nearer the camp than they sus- 
pected. As they blundered on among the 
crackling underbrush and dry twigs the sharp 
report of a rifle echoed through the forest, and 
a bullet whistled above their heads. 

" Fat the divil are you foiring at, Mike 
Lynch?" cried the alderman, who recognized 
the shooter, now rapidly falling back. 

178 



1Tn tbe tflM&st of Blarma. 179 

" Oh, it's you, is it ? " said the sentry, stop- 
ping in his flight. The captain strode angrily 
toward him. 

" What do you mean by firing like that ? 
Don't you know enough to ask for the counter- 
sign before shooting?" 

" Sure, I forgot about it, captain, entirely. 
But, then, ye see, I never can hit anything ; so 
it's little difference it makes." 

The shot had roused the camp, and there 
was now wild commotion, everybody thinking 
the Canadians were upon them. 

A strange sight met the eye of Yates and 
Renmark. Both were astonished to see the 
number of men that O'Neill had under his com- 
mand. They found a motley crowd. Some 
tattered United States uniforms were among 
them, but the greater number were dressed as 
ordinary individuals, although a few had trim- 
mings of green braid on their clothes. Sleep- 
ing out for a couple of nights had given the 
gathering the unkempt appearance of a great 
company of tramps. The officers were indis- 
tinguishable from the men at first, but after- 
ward Yates noticed that they, mostly in plain 
clothes and slouch hats, had sword belts 
buckled around them ; and one or two had 
swords that had evidently seen service in the 
United States cavalry. 

" It's all right, boys," cried the captain to the 
excited mob. " It was only that fool Lynch who 
fired at us. There's nobody hurt. Where's the 
general ? " 

" Here he comes," said half a dozen voices at 
once, and the crowd made way for him. 

General O'Neill was dressed in ordinary 
citizen's costume, and did not wear even a 
sword belt. On his head of light hair was 
a black soft felt hat. His face was pale, and 
covered with freckles. He looked more like 



i8o i[n tbe jfflM&et of Blarms, 

a clerk from a grocery store than the com- 
mander of an army. He was evidently some- 
where between thirty-five and forty years of 
age. 

" Oh, it's you, is it ? " he said. " Why are 
you back ? Any news ? " 

The captain saluted, military fashion, and 
replied : 

" We took two prisoners, sir. They were 
encamped in a tent in the woods. One of them 
says he is an American citizen, and says he 
knows you, so I brought them in." 

" I wish you had brought in the tent, too," 
said the general with a wan smile. " It would 
be an improvement on sleeping in the open air. 
Are these the prisoners? I don't know either 
of them." 

" The captain makes a mistake in saying that 
I claimed a personal acquaintance with you, 
general. What I said was that you would 
recognize, somewhat quicker than he did, who 
I was, and the desirability of treating me with 
reasonable decency. Just show the general 
that telegram you took from my coat pocket, 
captain." 

The paper was produced, and O'Neill read it 
over once or twice. 

" You are on the New York Argus, then ? " 

" Very much so, general." 

" I hope you have not been roughly used ? " 

" Oh, no ; merely tied up in a hard knot, and 
threatened with shooting that's all." 

44 Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. Still, you must 
make some allowance at a time like this. If 
you will come with me, I will write you a pass 
which will prevent any similar mistake happen- 
ing in the future." The general led the way to 
a smoldering camp fire, where, out of a valise, 
he took writing materials and, using the valise as 
a desk, began to write. After he had written 



1fn tbe /IIM&st of Blarma, 181 

" Headquarters of the Grand Army of the Irish 
Republic " he looked up, and asked Yates his 
Christian name. Being answered, he inquired 
the name of his friend. 

" I want nothing from you," interposed Ren- 
mark. " Don't put my name on the paper." 

" Oh, that's all right," said Yates. " Never 
mind him, general. He's a learned man who 
doesn't know when to talk and when not to. 
As you march up to our tent, general, you will 
see an empty jug, which will explain everything. 
Renmark's drunk, not to put too fine a point 
upon it ; and he imagines himself a British 
subject." 

The Fenian general looked up at the professor. 

" Are you a Canadian ? " he asked. 

" Certainly I am." 

" Well, in that case, if I let you leave camp, 
you must give me your word that, should you 
fall in with the enemy, you will give no informa- 
tion to them of our position, numbers, or of 
anything else you may have seen while with us." 

" I shall not give my word. On the contrary, 
if I should fall in with the Canadian troops, I 
will tell them where you are, that you are from 
eight hundred to one thousand strong, and the 
worst looking set of vagabonds I have ever seen 
out of jail." 

General O'Neill frowned, and looked from 
one to the other. 

" Do you realize that you confess to being a 
spy, and that it becomes my duty to have you 
taken out and shot ? " 

" In real war, yes. But this is mere idiotic 
fooling. All of you that don't escape will be 
either in jail or shot before twenty-four hours." 

" Well, by the gods, it won't help you any. 
I'll have you shot inside of ten minutes, instead 
of twenty-four hours." 

" Hold on, general, hold on ! " cried Yates, as 



182 ifn tbc flBt&st of Blarms. 

the angry man rose and confronted the two. 
" I admit that he richly deserves shooting, if 
you were the fool killer, which you are not. 
But it won't do, I will be responsible for him. 
Just finish that pass for me, and I will take care 
of the professor. Shoot me if you like, but 
don't touch him. He hasn't any sense, as you 
can see ; but I am not to blame for that, nor 
are you. If you take to shooting everybody 
who is an ass, general, you won't have any am- 
munition left with which to conquer Canada. 

The general smiled in spite of himself, and 
resumed the writing of the pass. " There," he 
said, handing the paper to Yates. " You see, 
we always like to oblige the press. I will risk 
your belligerent friend, and I hope you will 
exercise more control over him, if you meet the 
Canadians, than you were able to exert here. 
Don't you think, on the whole, you had better 
stay with us? We are going to march in a 
couple of hours, when the men have had a little 
rest." He added in a lower voice, so that the 
professor could not hear : " You didn't see any- 
thing of the Canadians, I suppose ? " 

" Not a sign. No, I don't think I'll stay. 
There will be five of our fellows here some time 
to-day, I expect, and that will be more than 
enough. I'm really here on a vacation. Been 
ordered rest and quiet. I'm beginning to think 
I have made a mistake in location." 

Yates bade good-by to the commander, and 
walked with his friend out of the camp. They 
threaded their way among sleeping men and 
groups of stacked guns. On the top of one of 
the bayonets was hung a tall silk hat, which 
looked most incongruous in such a place. 

14 1 think," said Yates, " that we will make for 
the Ridge Road, which must lie somewhere in 
this direction. It will be easier walking than 
through the woods; and, besides, I want to 



1Fn tbe ,fllM&st of Blavms, 183 

stop at one of the farmhouses and get some 
breakfast. I'm as hungry as a bear after 
tramping so long." 

" Very well," answered the professor shortly. 

The two stumbled along until they reached 
the edge of the wood ; then, crossing some 
open fields, they came presently upon the road, 
near the spot where the fist fight had taken 
place between Yates and Bartlett. The com- 
rades, now with greater comfort, walked silently 
along the road toward the west, with the red- 
dening east behind them. The whole scene 
was strangely quiet and peaceful, and the recol- 
lection of the weird camp they had left in the 
woods seemed merely a bad dream. The 
morning air was sweet, and the birds were 
beginning to sing. Yates had intended to give 
the professor a piece of his mind regarding the 
lack of tact and common sense displayed by 
Renmark in the camp, but, somehow, the 
scarcely awakened day did not lend itself to 
controversy, and the serene stillness soothed his 
spirit. He began to whistle softly that popular 
war song, " Tramp, tramp, tramp, the boys are 
marching," and then broke in with the 
question : 

" Say, Renny, did you notice that plug hat on 
the bayonet ? " 

" Yes," answered the professor ; " and I saw 
five others scattered around the camp." 

"Jingo! you were observant. I can imagine 
nothing quite so ridiculous as a man going to 
war in a tall silk hat." 

The professor made no reply, and Yates 
changed his whistling to " Rally round the 
flag." 

" I presume," he said at length, " there is 
little use in attempting to improve the morning 
hour by trying to show you, Renmark, what a 
fool you made of yourself in the camp ? Your 



184 1Fn tbe flhitet of Blarma. 

natural diplomacy seemed to be slightly off the 
center." 

" I do not hold diplomatic relations with 
thieves and vagabonds." 

" They may be vagabonds ; but so am I, for 
that matter. They may also be well-meaning, 
mistaken men ; but I do not think they are 
thieves." 

" While you were talking with the so-called 
general, one party came in with several horses 
that had been stolen from the neighboring 
farmers, and another party started out to get 
some more." 

"Oh, that isn't stealing, Renmark ; that's 
requisitioning. You mustn't use such reckless 
language. I imagine the second party has been 
successful ; for here are three of them all 
mounted." 

The three horsemen referred to stopped their 
steeds at the sight of the two men coming round 
the bend of the road, and awaited their approach. 
Like so many of the others, they wore no uni- 
form, but two of them held revolvers in their 
hands ready for action. The one who had no 
visible revolver moved his horse up the middle 
of the road toward the pedestrians, the other 
two taking positions on each side of the wagon 
way. 

" Who are you ? Where do you come from, 
and where are you going ? " cried the foremost 
horseman, as the two walkers came within 
talking distance. 

" It's all right, commodore," said Yates 
jauntily, " and the top of the morning to you. 
We are hungry pedestrians. We have just come 
from the camp, and we are going to get some- 
thing to eat." 

" I must have a more satisfactory answer than 
that." 

"Well, here you have it, then," answered 



1fn tbe /BM&6t of Blarm0. 185 

Yates, pulling out his folded pass, and handing 
it up to the horseman. The man read it care- 
fully. " You find that all right, I expect ? " 

" Right enough to cause your immediate 
arrest." 

" But the general said we were not to be 
molested further. That is in his own hand- 
writing." 

" I presume it is, and all the worse for you. 
His handwriting does not run quite as far as 
the queen's writ in this country yet. I arrest 
you in the name of the queen. Cover these 
men with your revolvers, and shoot them down 
if they make any resistance." So saying, the 
rider slipped from his horse, whipped out of his 
pocket a pair of handcuffs joined by a short, 
stout steel chain, and, leaving his horse standing, 
grasped Ren mark's wrist. 

" I'm a Canadian," said the professor, wrench- 
ing his wrist away. " You mustn't put hand- 
cuffs on me." 

" You are in very bad company, then. I am 
a constable of this county ; if you are what you 
say, you will not resist arrest." 

" I will go with you, but you mustn't hand- 
cuff me." 

" Oh, mustn't I ? " And, with a quick move- 
ment indicative of long practice with resisting 
criminals, the constable deftly slipped on one 
of the clasps, which closed with a sharp click 
and stuck like a burr. 

Ren mark became deadly pale, and there 
was a dangerous glitter in his eyes. He drew 
back his clinched fist, in spite of the fact 
that the cocked revolver was edging closer 
and closer to him, and the constable held his 
struggling manacled hand with grim deter- 
mination. 

" Hold on ! " cried Yates, preventing the 
professor from striking the representative of 



i86 iTn tbe jfllMfcst of Alarms. 

the law. " Don't shoot," he shouted to the 
man on horseback ; " it is all a little mistake 
that will be quickly put right. You are three 
armed and mounted men, and we are only two, 
unarmed and on foot. There is no need of any 
revolver practice. Now, Renmark, you are 
more of a rebel at the present moment than 
O'Neill. He owes no allegiance, and you do. 
Have you no respect for the forms of law and 
order? You are an anarchist at heart, for all 
your professions. You would sing 'God save 
the Queen ! ' in the wrong place a while ago, so 
now be satisfied that you have got her, or, 
rather, that she has got you. Now, constable, 
do you want to hitch the other end of that 
arrangement on my wrist ? or have you another 
pair for my own special use ? " 

" I'll take your wrist, if you please." 

" All right ; here you are." Yates drew back 
his coat sleeve, and presented his wrist. The 
dangling cuff was speedily clamped upon it. 
The constable mounted the patient horse that 
stood waiting for him, watching him all the 
while with intelligent eye. The two prisoners, 
handcuffed together, took the middle of the 
road, with a horseman on each side of them, 
the constable bringing up the rear ; thus they 
marched on, the professor gloomy from 
the indignity put upon them, and the news- 
paper man as joyous as the now thoroughly 
awakened birds. The scouts concluded to go 
no farther toward the enemy, but to return to 
the Canadian forces with their prisoners. They 
marched down the road, all silent except Yates, 
who enlivened the morning air with the singing 
of "John Brown." 

"Keep quiet," said the constable curtly. 

" All right, I will. But look here ; we shall 
pass shortly the house of a friend. We want 
to go and get something to eat." 



1Fn tbe fllMDst of Blarma, 187 

" You will get nothing to eat until I deliver 
you up to the officers of the volunteers," 

" And where, may I ask, are they ? " 

"You may ask, but I will not answer." 

" Now, Renmark," said Yates to his com- 
panion, "the tough part of this episode is that 
we shall have to pass Bartlett's house, and 
feast merely on the remembrance of the good 
things which Mrs. Bartlett is always glad to 
bestow on the wayfarer. I call that refined 
cruelty." 

As they neared the Bartlett homestead they 
caught sight of Miss Kitty on the veranda, 
shading her eyes from the rising sun, and gaz- 
ing earnestly at the approaching squad. As 
soon as she recognized the group she disap- 
peared, with a cry, into the house. Presently 
there came out Mrs. Bartlett, followed by her 
son, and more slowly by the old man himself. 

They all came down to the gate and waited. 

" Hello, Mrs. Bartlett ! " cried Yates cheerily. 
" You see, the professor has got his deserts at 
last ; and I, being in bad company, share his 
fate, like the good dog Tray." 

" What's all this about ? " cried Mrs. Bartlett. 

The constable, who knew both the farmer 
and his wife, nodded familiarly to them. 
" They're Fenian prisoners," he said. 

" Nonsense ! " cried Mrs. Bartlett the old 
man, as usual, keeping his mouth grimly shut 
when his wife was present to do the talking 
"they're not Fenians. They've been camping 
on our farm for a week or more." 

" That may be," said the constable firmly, 
" but I have the best of evidence against them ; 
and, if I'm not very much mistaken, they'll hang 
for it." 

Miss Kitty, who had been partly visible 
through the door, gave a cry of anguish at this 
remark, and disappeared again. 



i88 lTn tbe /HMfcst of alarms* 

" We have just escaped being hanged by the 
Fenians themselves, Mrs. Bartlett, and I hope 
the same fate awaits us at the hands of the 
Canadians." 

" What ! hanging ? " 

" No, no ; just escaping. Not that I object 
to being hanged, I hope I am not so pernickety 
as all that, but, Mrs. Bartlett, you will sympa- 
thize with me when I tell you that the torture 
I am suffering from at this moment is the re- 
membrance of the good things to eat which I 
have had in your house. I am simply starved 
to death, Mrs. Bartlett, and this hard-hearted 
constable refuses to allow me to ask you for 
anything." 

Mrs. Bartlett came out through the gate to 
the road in a visible state of indignation. 

" Stoliker," she exclaimed, " I'm ashamed of 
you ! You may hang a man if you like, but 
you have no right to starve him. Come 
straight in with me," she said to the prisoners. 

" Madam," said Stoliker severely, " you must 
not interfere with the course of the law." 

" The course of stuff and nonsense ! " cried 
the angry woman. " Do you think I am afraid 
of you, Sam Stoliker ? Haven't I chased you 
out of this very orchard when you were a boy 
trying to steal my apples ? Yes, and boxed 
your ears, too, when I caught you, and then was 
fool enough to fill your pockets with the best 
apples on the place, after giving you what you 
deserved. Course of the law, indeed ! I'll box 
your ears now if you say anything more. Get 
down off your horse, and have something to 
eat yourself. I dare say you need it." 

" This is what I call a rescue," whispered 
Yates to his linked companion. 

What is a stern upholder of the law to do 
when the interferer with justice is a determined 
and angry woman accustomed to having her 



1Fn tbe /HMDst of Blarm0* 189 

own way ? Stoliker looked helplessly at Hiram, 
as the supposed head of the house, but the old 
man merely shrugged his shoulders, as much as 
to say : " You see how it is yourself. I am 
helpless." 

Mrs. Bartlett marched her prisoners through 
the gate and up to the house. 

" All I ask of you now," said Yates, " is that 
you will give Renmark and me seats together 
at the table. We cannot bear to be separated, 
even for an instant." 

Having delivered her prisoners to the custody 
of her daughter, at the same time admonishing 
her to get breakfast as quickly as possible, Mrs. 
Bartlett went to the gate again. The constable 
was still on his horse. Hiram had asked, by 
way of treating him to a noncontroversial sub- 
ject, if this was the colt he had bought from 
old Brown, on the second concession, and 
Stoliker had replied that it was. Hiram was 
saying he thought he recognized the horse by 
his sire when Mrs. Bartlett broke in upon 
them. 

" Come, Sam," she said, " no sulking, you 
know. Slip off the horse and come in. How's 
your mother ? " 

" She's pretty well, thank you," said Sam 
sheepishly, coming down on his feet again. 

Kitty Bartlett, her gayety gone and her eyes 
red, waited on the prisoners, but absolutely 
refused to serve Sam Stoliker, on whom she 
looked with the utmost contempt, not taking 
into account the fact that the poor young man 
had been merely doing his duty, and doing it 
well. 

" Take off these handcuffs, Sam," said Mrs. 
Bartlett, " until they have breakfast, at least." 

Stoliker produced a key and unlocked the 
manacles, slipping them into his pocket. 

" Ah, now ! " said Yates, looking at his red 



190 1Fn tbe /HM&st of Blatms. 

wrist, " we can breathe easier ; and I, for one, 
can eat more." 

The professor said nothing. The iron had 
not only encircled his wrist, but had entered 
his soul as well. Although Yates tried to make 
the early meal as cheerful as possible, it was 
rather a gloomy festival. Stoliker began to 
feel, poor man, that the paths of duty were 
unpopular. Old Hiram could always be de- 
pended upon to add somberness and tacitur- 
nity to a wedding feast ; the professor, never 
the liveliest of companions, sat silent, with 
clouded brow, and vexed even the cheerful Mrs. 
Bartlett by having evidently no appetite. When 
the hurried meal was over, Yates, noticing that 
Miss Kitty had left the room, sprang up and 
walked toward the kitchen door. Stoliker was 
on his feet in an instant, and made as though 
to follow him. 

" Sit down," said the professor sharply, speak- 
ing for the first time. " He is not going to 
escape. Don't be afraid. He has done noth- 
ing, and has no fear of punishment. It is always 
the innocent that you stupid officials arrest. 
The woods all around you are full of real 
Fenians, but you take excellent care to keep 
out of their way, and give your attention to 
molesting perfectly inoffensive people." 

" Good for you, professor ! " cried Mrs. Bart- 
lett emphatically. " That's the truth, if ever it 
was spoken. But are there Fenians in the 
woods ? " 

" Hundreds of them. They came on us in 
the tent about three o'clock this morning, orat 
least an advance guard did, and after talking 
of shooting us where we stood they marched 
us to the Fenian camp instead. Yates got a 
pass, written by the Fenian general, so that we 
should not be troubled again. That is the 
precious document which this man thinks is 



1Ttt tbe fllbtost of Blarms, 191 

deadly evidence. He never asked us a question, 
but clapped the handcuffs on our wrists, while 
the other fools held pistols to our heads." 

" It isn't my place to ask questions," retorted 
Stoliker doggedly. " You can tell all this to 
the colonel or the sheriff ; if they let you go, 
I'll say nothing against it." 

Meanwhile, Yates had made his way into the 
kitchen, taking the precaution to shut the door 
after him. Kitty Bartlett looked quickly round 
as the door closed. Before she could speak 
the young man caught her by the plump 
shoulders a thing which he certainly had no 
right to do. 

" Miss Kitty Bartlett," he said, " you've been 
crying." 

" I haven't ; and if I had, it is nothing to you." 

" Oh, I'm not so sure about that. Don't 
deny it. For whom were you crying? The 
professor ? " 

" No, nor for you either, although I suppose 
you have conceit enough to think so." 

" Me conceited ? Anything but that. Come, 
now, Kitty, for whom were you crying? I 
must know." 

" Please let me go, Mr. Yates," said Kitty, 
with an effort at dignity. 

" Dick is my name, Kit." 

" Well, mine is not Kit. 

" You're quite right. Now that you mention 
it, I will call you Kitty, which is much prettier 
than the abbreviation." 

" I did not * mention it.' Please let me go. 
Nobody has the right to call me anything but 
Miss Bartlett ; that is, you haven't, anyhow." 

" Well, Kitty, don't you think it is about time 
to give somebody the right ? Why won't you 
look up at me, so that I can tell for sure whether 
I should have accused you of crying ? Look 
up Miss Bartlett." 



i92 1fn tbe flMfcst ot Blatms* 

" Please let me go, Mr. Yates. Mother will 
be here in a minute." 

"Mother is a wise and thoughtful woman. 
We'll risk mother. Besides, I'm not in the 
least afraid of her, and I don't believe you are. 
I think she is at this moment giving poor Mr. 
Stoliker a piece of her mind ; otherwise, I im- 
agine, he would have followed me. I saw it in 
his eye." 

" I hate that man," said Kitty inconsequently. 

" I like him, because he brought me here, 
even if I was handcuffed. Kitty, why don't 
you look up at me ? Are you afraid ? " 

" What should I be afraid of ? " asked Kitty, 
giving him one swift glance from her pretty 
blue eyes. " Not of you, I hope." 

" Well, Kitty, I sincerely hope not. Now, 
Miss Bartlett, do you know why I came out 
here ? " 

" For something; more to eat, very likely," 
said the girl mischievously. 

" Oh, I say, that to a man in captivity is both 
cruel and unkind. Besides, I had a first-rate 
breakfast, thank you. No such motive drew 
me into the kitchen. But I will tell you. You 
shall have it from my own lips. That was the 
reason ! " 

He suited the action to the word, and kissed 
her before she knew what was about to happen. 
At least, Yates, with all his experience, thought 
he had taken her unawares. Men often make 
mistakes in little matters of this kind. Kitty 
pushed him with apparent indignation from 
her, but she did not strike him across the face, 
as she had done before, when he merely at- 
tempted what he had now accomplished. Per- 
haps this was because she had been taken so 
completely by surprise. 

" I shall call my mother," she threatened. 

" Oh, no, you won't. Besides, she wouldn't 



1Fn tbe /flMDst of Blarms. 193 

come." Then this frivolous young man began 
to sing in a low voice the flippant refrain, 
" Here's to the girl that gets a kiss, and runs 
and tells her mother," ending with the wish 
that she should live and die an old maid and 
never get another. Kitty should not have 
smiled, but she did ; she should have rebuked 
his levity, but she didn't. 

" It is about the great and disastrous conse- 
quences of living and dying an old maid that I 
want to speak to you. I have a plan for the 
prevention of such a catastrophe, and I would 
like to get your approval of it." 

Yates had released the girl, partly because 
she had wrenched herself away from him, and 
partly because he heard a movement in the 
dining room, and expected the entrance of 
Stoliker or some of the others. Miss Kitty 
stood with her back to the table, her eyes fixed 
on a spring flower, which she had unconsciously 
taken from a vase standing on the window- 
ledge. She smoothed the petals this way and 
that, and seemed so interested in botanical in- 
vestigation that Yates wondered whether she 
was paying attention to what he was saying or 
not. What his plan might have been can only 
be guessed ; for the Fates ordained that they 
should be interrupted at this critical moment 
by the one person on earth who could make 
Yates' tongue falter. 

The outer door to the kitchen burst open, 
and Margaret Howard stood on the threshold, 
her lovely face aflame with indignation, and her 
dark hair down over her shoulders, forming a 
picture of beauty that fairly took Yates' breath 
away. She did not notice him. 

" O Kitty," she cried, " those wretches 
have stolen all our horses ! Is your father 
here ? " 

" What wretches ? " asked Kitty, ignoring the 



194 1Fn tbe jfflMtet ot Blarms. 

question, and startled by the sudden advent of 
her friend. 

"The Fenians. They have taken all the 
horses that were in the fields, and your horses 
as well. So I ran over to tell you." 

" Have they taken your own horse, too ? " 

" No. I always keep Gypsy in the stable. 
The thieves did not come near the house. Oh, 
Mr. Yates ! I did not see you." And Mar- 
garet's hand, with the unconscious vanity of a 
woman, sought her disheveled hair, which 
Yates thought too becoming ever to be put in 
order again. 

Margaret reddened as she realized, from 
Kitty's evident embarrassment, that she had 
impulsively broken in upon a conference of two. 

" I must tell your father about it," she said 
hurriedly, and before Yates could open the door 
she had done so for herself. Again she was 
taken aback to see so many sitting round the 
table. 

There was a moment's silence between the 
two in the kitchen, but the spell was broken. 

" I I don't suppose there will be any trouble 
about getting back the horses," said Yates 
hesitatingly. " If you lose them, the Govern- 
ment will have to pay." 

" I presume so," answered Kitty coldly ; then : 
" Excuse me, Mr. Yates ; I mustn't stay here 
any longer." So saying, she followed Margaret 
into the other room. 

Yates drew a long breath of relief. All his 
old difficulties of preference had arisen when 
the outer door burst open. He felt that he had 
had a narrow escape, and began to wonder if he 
had really committed himself. Then the fear 
swept over him that Margaret might have 
noticed her friend's evident confusion, and sur- 
mised its cause. He wondered whether this 
would help him or hurt him with Margaret, if 



1Fn tbe .flIM&at of Blarms* 195 

he finally made up his mind to favor her with 
his serious attentions. Still, he reflected that, 
after all, they were both country girls, and 
would no doubt be only too eager to accept a 
chance to live in New York. Thus his mind 
gradually resumed its normal state of self-con- 
fidence ; and he argued that, whatever Mar- 
garet's suspicions were, they could not but 
make him more precious in her eyes. He knew 
of instances where the very danger of losing a 
man had turned a woman's wavering mind 
entirely in the man's favor. When he had 
reached this point, the door from the dining 
room opened, and Stoliker appeared. 

"We are waiting for you," said the constable. 

" All right. I am ready." 

As he entered the room he saw the two girls 
standing together talking earnestly. 

" I wish I was a constable for twenty-four 
hours," cried Mrs. Bartlett. " I would be hunt- 
ing horse thieves instead of handcuffing inno- 
cent men." 

" Come along," said the impassive Stoliker, 
taking the handcuffs from his pocket. 

" If you three men," continued Mrs. Bartlett, 
" cannot take those two to camp, or to jail, or 
anywhere else, without handcuffing them, I'll go 
along with you myself and protect you, and see 
that they don't escape. You ought to be 
ashamed of yourself, Sam Stoliker, if you have 
any manhood about you which I doubt." 

" I must do my duty." 

The professor rose from his chair. " Mr. 
Stoliker," he said with determination, " my 
friend and myself will go with you quietly. 
We will make no attempt to escape, as we have 
done nothing to make us fear investigation. 
But I give you fair warning that if you attempt 
to put a handcuff on my wrist again I will 
smash you." 



196 Un tbc /BMDst of Blarms. 

A cry of terror from one of the girls, at the 
prospect of a fight, caused the professor to 
realize where he was. He turned to them and 
said in a contrite voice : 

" Oh ! I forgot you were here. I sincerely 
beg your pardon." 

Margaret, with blazing eyes, cried : 

" Don't beg my pardon, but smash him." 

Then a consciousness of what she had 
said overcame her, and the excited girl hid 
her blushing face on her friend's shoulder, 
while Kitty lovingly stroked her dark, tangled 
hair. 

Renmark took a step toward them, and 
stopped* Yates, with his usual quickness, 
came to the rescue, and his cheery voice re- 
lieved the tension of the situation. 

" Come, come, Stoliker, don't be an idiot. I 
do not object in the least to the handcuffs ; and, 
if you are dying to handcuff somebody, hand- 
cuff me. It hasn't struck your luminous mind 
that you have not the first tittle of evidence 
against my friend, and that, even if I were the 
greatest criminal in America, the fact of his 
being with me is no crime. The truth is, 
Stoliker, that I wouldn't be in your shoes for 
a good many dollars. You talk a great deal 
about doing your duty, but you have exceeded 
it in the case of the professor. I hope you have 
no property ; for the professor can, if he likes, 
make you pay sweetly for putting the handcuffs 
on him without a warrant, or even without one 
jot of evidence. What is the penalty for false 
arrest, Hiram ? " continued Yates, suddenly 
appealing to the old man. " I think it is a 
thousand dollars." 

Hiram said gloomily that he didn't know. 
Stoliker was hit on a tender spot, for he owned 
a farm. 

" Better apologize to the professor and let us 



fln tbe /flMDst of Blarm0. 197 

get along. Good-by, all. Mrs. Bartlett, that 
breakfast was the very best I ever tasted." 

The good woman smiled and shook hands 
with him. 

" Good-by, Mr. Yates ; and I hope you will 
soon come back to have another." 

Stoliker slipped the handcuffs into his 
pocket again, and mounted his horse. The 
girls, from the veranda, watched the procession 
move up the dusty road. They were silent, and 
had even forgotten the exciting event of the 
stealing of the horses. 



CHAPTER XVII. 

WHEN the two prisoners, with their three 
captors, came in sight of the Canadian volun- 
teers, they beheld a scene which was much 
more military than the Fenian camp. They 
were promptly halted and questioned by a 
picket before coming to the main body ; the 
sentry knew enough not to shoot until he had 
asked for the countersign. Passing the picket, 
they came in full view of the Canadian force, 
the men of which looked very spick and span 
in uniforms which seemed painfully new in the 
clear light of the fair June morning. The guns, 
topped by a bristle of bayonets which glittered 
as the rising sun shone on them, were stacked 
with neat precision here and there. The men 
were preparing their breakfast, and a tempo- 
rary halt had been called for that purpose. 
The volunteers were scattered by the side of 
the road and in the fields. Renrnark recog- 
nized the colors of the regiment from his own 
city, and noticed that there was with it a com- 
pany that was strange to him. Although led 
to them a prisoner, he felt a glowing pride in 
the regiment and their trim appearance a 
pride that was both national and civic. He 
instinctively held himself more erect as he 
approached. 

" Renmark," said Yates, looking at him with 
a smile, "you are making a thoroughly British 
mistake." 

"What do you mean? I haven't spoken." 

" No, but I see it in your eye. You are 
198 



f n tbe /BM&st of Blarms. 199 

underestimating the enemy. You think this 
pretty company is going to walk over that body 
of unkempt tramps we saw in the woods this 
morning." 

" I do indeed, if the tramps wait to be walked 
over which I very much doubt." 

" That's just where you make a mistake. 
Most of these are raw boys, who know all that 
can be learned of war on a cricket field. They 
will be the worst whipped set of young fellows 
before night that this part of the country has 
ever seen. Wait till they see one of their com- 
rades fall, with the blood gushing out of a 
wound in his breast. If they don't turn and 
run, then I'm a Dutchman. I've seen raw 
recruits before. They should have a company 
of older men here who have seen service to 
steady them. The fellows we saw this morning 
were sleeping like logs, in the damp woods, as 
we stepped over them. They are veterans. 
What will be but a mere skirmish to them will 
seem to these boys the most awful tragedy that 
ever happened. Why, many of them look as if 
they might be university lads." 

" They are," said Renmark, with a pang of 
anguish. 

" Well, I can't see what your stupid govern- 
ment means by sending them here alone. They 
should have at least one company of regulars 
with them/' 

" Probably the regulars are on the way." 

" Perhaps ; but they will have to put in an 
appearance mighty sudden, or the fight will be 
over. If these boys are not in a hurry with 
their meal, the Fenians will be upon them before 
they know it. If there is to be a fight, it will be 
before a very few hours before one hour passes, 
perhaps ; and you are going to see a miniature 
Bull Run." 

Some of the volunteers crowded around the 



200 f n tbc /IlM&st of Blarms. 

incomers, eagerly inquiring for news of the 
enemy. The Fenians had taken the precaution 
to cut all the telegraph wires leading out of 
Fort Erie, and hence those in command of the 
companies did not even know that the enemy 
had left that locality. They were now on their 
way to a point where they were to meet Colonel 
Peacocke's force of regulars a point which 
they were destined never to reach. Stoliker 
sought an officer and delivered up his prisoners, 
together with the incriminating paper that 
Yates had handed to him. The officer's deci- 
sion was short and sharp, as military decisions 
are generally supposed to be. He ordered the 
constable to take both the prisoners and put 
them in jail at Port Colborne. There was no 
time now for an inquiry into the case, that 
could come afterward, and, so long as the men 
were safe in jail, everything would be all right. 
To this the constable mildly interposed two 
objections. In the first place, he said, he was 
with the volunteers not in his capacity as con- 
stable, but in the position of guide and man 
who knew the country. In the second place, 
there was no jail at Port Colborne. 

" Where is the nearest jail ? " 

" The jail of the county is at Welland, the 
county town," replied the constable. 

" Very well ; take them there." 

" But I am here as guide," repeated Stoliker. 

The officer hesitated for a moment. " You 
haven't handcuffs with you, I presume? " 

" Yes, I have," said Stoliker, producing the 
implements. 

" Well, then, handcuff them together, and I 
will send one of the company over to Welland 
with them. How far is it across country ? " 

Stoliker told him. 

The officer called one of the volunteers, and 
said to him : 



1fn tbe dlMDet of alarms, 201 

" You are to make your way across country 
to Welland, and deliver these men up to the 
jailer there. They will be handcuffed together, 
but you take a revolver with you, and if they 
give you any trouble, shoot them." 

The volunteer reddened, and drew himself 
up. " I am not a policeman," he said. " I am 
a soldier." 

" Very well, then, your first duty as a soldier 
is to obey orders. I order you to take these 
men to Welland." 

The volunteers had crowded around as this 
discussion went on, and a murmur rose among 
them at the order of the officer. They evi- 
dently sympathized with their comrade's objec- 
tion to the duties of a policeman. One of them 
made his way through the crowd, and cried : 

"Hello! this is the professor. This is Mr. 
Renmark. He's no Fenian." Two or three 
more of the university students recognized 
Renmark, and, pushing up to him, greeted him 
warmly. He was evidently a favorite with his 
class. Among others young Howard pressed 
forward. 

" It is nonsense," he cried, " talking about 
sending Professor Renmark to jail ! He is no 
more a Fenian than Governor-General Monck. 
We'll all go bail for the professor." 

The officer wavered. " If you know him," 
he said, " that is a different matter. But this 
other man has a letter from the commander of 
the Fenians, recommending him to the con- 
sideration of all friends of the Fenian cause. 
I can't let him go free." 

" Are you the chief in command here ? " 
asked Renmark. 

" No, I am not." 

" Mr. Yates is a friend of mine who is here 
with me on his vacation. He is a New York 
journalist, and has nothing in common with the 



202 ifn tbe /HM&st of Blarms, 

invaders. If you insist on sending him to 
Welland, I must demand that we be taken 
before the officer in command. In any case, he 
and I stand or fall together. I am exactly as 
guilty or innocent as he is." 

" We can't bother the colonel about every 
triviality." 

" A man's liberty is no triviality. What, in 
the name of common sense, are you fighting 
for but liberty ? " 

" Thanks, Renmark, thanks," said Yates ; 
" but I don't care to see the colonel, and I shall 
welcome Welland jail. I am tired of all this 
bother. I came here for rest and quiet, and I 
am going to have them, if I have to go to jail 
for them. I'm coming reluctantly to the belief 
that jail's the most comfortable place in 
Canada, anyhow." 

" But this is an outrage," cried the professor 
indignantly. 

" Of course it is," replied Yates wearily ; 
"but the woods are full of them. There's 
always outrages going on, especially in so-called 
free countries ; therefore one more or less won't 
make much difference. Come, officer, Xvho's 
going to take me to Welland ? or shall I have 
to go by myself? I'm a Fenian from 'way 
back, and came here especially to overturn the 
throne and take it home with me. For Heaven's 
sake, know your own mind one way or other, 
and let us end this conference." 

The officer was wroth. He speedily gave the 
order to Stoliker to handcuff the prisoner to him- 
self, and deliver him to the jailer at Welland. 

" But I want assistance," objected Stoliker. 
" The prisoner is a bigger man than I am." 
The volunteers laughed as Stoliker mentioned 
this self-evident fact. 

" If anyone likes to go with you, he can go. 
I shall give no orders." 



1Fn tbe /flMfcst of Blarm0, 203 

No one volunteered to accompany the 
constable. 

" Take this revolver with you, "continued the 
officer, "and if he attempts to escape, shoot 
him. Besides, you know the way to Welland, 
so I can't send anybody in your place, even if I 
wanted to." 

" Howard knows the way," persisted Stoliker. 
That young man spoke up with great indigna- 
tion : " Yes, but Howard isn't constable, and 
Stoliker is. I'm not going." 

Renmark went up to his friend. 

" Who's acting foolishly now, Yates ? " he 
said. " Why don't you insist on seeing the 
colonel ? The chances are ten to one that you 
would be allowed off." 

"Don't make any mistake. The colonel will 
very likely be some fussy individual who mag- 
nifies his own importance, and who will send a 
squad of volunteers to escort me, and I want to 
avoid that. These officers always stick by each 
other ; they're bound to. I want to go alone 
with Stoliker. I have a score to settle with 
him." 

" Now, don't do anything rash. You've done 
nothing so far ; but if you assault an officer of 
the law, that will be a different matter." 

" Satan reproving sin. Who prevented you 
from hitting Stoliker a short time since ? " 

" Well, I was wrong then. You are wrong 
now." 

" See here, Renny," whispered Yates ; " you 
get back to the tent, and see that everything's 
all right. I'll be with you in an hour or so. 
Don't look so frightened. I wont hurt Stoliker. 
But I want to see this fight, and I won't get 
there if the colonel sends an escort. I'm going 
to use Stoliker as a shield when the bullets be- 
gin flying." 

The bugles sounded for the troops to fall in, 



204 fin tbe /HM&st of Alarms. 

and Stoliker very reluctantly attached one clasp 
of the handcuff around his own left wrist, while 
he snapped the other on the right wrist of Yates, 
who embarrassed him with kindly assistance. 
The two manacled men disappeared down the 
road, while the volunteers rapidly fell in to con- 
tinue their morning's march. 

Young Howard beckoned to the professor 
from his place in the ranks. " I say, professor, 
how did you happen to be down this way ? " 

" I have been camping out here for a week or 
more with Yates, who is an old schoolfellow of 
mine." 

" What a shame to have him led off in that 
way ! But he seemed to rather like the idea. 

[oily fellow, I should say. How I wish I had 
nown you were in this neighborhood. My 
folks live near here. They would only have 
been too glad to be of assistance to you." 

" They have been of assistance to me, and 
exceedingly kind as well." 

"What? You know them? All of them? 
Have you met Margaret ? " 

" Yes," said the professor slowly, but his 
glance fell as it encountered the eager eyes of 
the youth. It was evident that Margaret was 
the brother's favorite. 

" Fall back, there ! " cried the officer to Ren- 
mark. 

" May I march along with them ? or can you 
give me a gun, and let me take part ? " 

" No," said the officer with some hauteur ; 
" this is no place for civilians." Again the pro- 
fessor smiled as he reflected that the whole 
company, as far as martial experience went, 
were merely civilians dressed in uniform ; but 
he became grave again when he remembered 
Yates' ominous prediction regarding them. 

" I say, Mr. Renmark," cried young Howard, 
as the company moved off, " if you see any of 



1Fn tbe flhitet of Alarms, 205 

them, don't tell them I'm here especially 
Margaret. It might make them uneasy. I'll get 
leave when this is over, and drop in on them." 

The boy spoke with the hopeful confidence 
of youth, and had evidently no premonition of 
how his appointment would be kept. Renmark 
left the road, and struck across country in the 
direction of the tent. 

Meanwhile, two men were tramping steadily 
along the dusty road toward Welland : the 
captor moody and silent, the prisoner talkative 
and entertaining indeed, Yates' conversation 
often went beyond entertainment, and became, 
at times, instructive. He discussed the affairs 
of both countries, showed a way out of all 
political difficulties, gave reasons for the practical 
use of common sense in every emergency, 
passed opinions on the methods of agriculture 
adopted in various parts of the country, told 
stories of the war, gave instances of men in 
captivity murdering those who were in charge 
of them, deduced from these anecdotes the 
foolishness of resisting lawful authority lawfully 
exercised, and, in general, showed that he was 
a man who respected power and the exercise 
thereof. Suddenly branching to more practical 
matters, he exclaimed : 

" Say, Stoliker, how many taverns are there 
between here and Welland ? " 

Stoliker had never counted them. 

" Well, that's encouraging, anyhow. If there 
are so many that it requires an effort of the 
memory to enumerate them, we will likely have 
something to drink before long." 

" I never drink while on duty," said Stoliker 
curtly. 

" Oh, well, don't apologize for it. Every 
man has his failings. I'll be only too happy to 
give you some instructions. I have acquired 
the useful practice of being able to drink both 



206 -ffn tbe flfctost of Blarms. 

on and off duty. Anything can be done, Stoliker, 
if you give your mind to it. I don't believe in 
the word 'can't,' either with or without the 
mark of elision." 

Stoliker did not answer, and Yates yawned 
wearily. 

" I wish you would hire a rig, constable. I'm 
tired of walking. I've been on my feet ever 
since three this morning." 

" I have no authority to hire a buggy." 

" But what do you do when a prisoner refuses 
to move? " 

" I make him move," said Stoliker shortly. 

" Ah, I see. That's a good plan, and saves 
bills at the livery stable." 

They came to a tempting bank by the road- 
side, when Yates cried : 

" Let's sit down and have a rest. I'm done 
out. The sun is hot, and the road dusty. You 
can let me have half an hour : the day's young 
yet." 

" I'll let you have fifteen minutes." 

They sat down together. "I wish a team 
would come along," said Yates with a sigh. 

"No chance of a team, with most of the 
horses in the neighborhood stolen, and the 
troops on the roads." 

" That's so," assented Yates sleepily. 

He was evidently tired out, for his chin 
dropped on his breast, and his eyes closed. 
His breathing came soft and regular, and his 
body leaned toward the constable, who sat bolt 
upright. Yate's left arm fell across the knees 
of Stoliker, and he leaned more and more 
heavily against him. The constable did not 
know whether he was shamming or not, but he 
took no risks. He kept his grasp firm on the 
butt of the revolver. Yet, he reflected, Yates 
could surely not meditate an attempt on his 
weapon, for he had, a few minutes before, told 



1Tn tbe /Ifctoat of alarms, 207 

him a. story about a prisoner who escaped in 
exactly that way. Stoliker was suspicious of 
the good intentions of the man he had in 
charge ; he was altogether too polite and good- 
natured ; and, besides, the constable dumbly 
felt that the prisoner was a much cleverer man 
than he. 

" Here, sit up," he said gruffly. " I'm not 
paid to carry you, you know." 

"What's that? What's that? What's 
that ?" cried Yates rapidly, blinking his eyes 
and straightening up. "Oh, it's only you, 
Stoliker. I thought it was my friend Renmark. 
Have I been asleep ? " 

" Either that or pretending I don't know 
which, and I don't care." 

" Oh ! I must have been pretending," an- 
wered Yates drowsily ; " I can't have dropped 
asleep. How long have we been here ? " 

" About five minutes." 

" All right." And Yates' head began to 
droop again. 

This time the constable felt no doubt about 
it. No man could imitate sleep so well. 
Several times Yates nearly fell forward, and 
each time saved himself, with the usual luck of 
a sleeper or a drunkard. Nevertheless, Stoliker 
never took his hand from his revolver. Sud- 
denly, with a greater lurch than usual, Yates 
pitched head first down the bank, carrying the 
constable with him. The steel band of the hand- 
cuff nipped the wrist of Stoliker, who, with an 
oath and a cry of pain, instinctively grasped the 
links between with his right hand, to save his 
wrist. Like a cat, Yates was upon him, show- 
ing marvelous agility for a man who had just 
tumbled in a heap. The next instant he held 
aloft the revolver, crying triumphantly : 

" How's that, umpire ? Out, I expect." 

The constable, with set teeth, still rubbed his 



2o8 fn tbe fllMDst of Blatms* 

wounded wrist, realizing the helplessness of 
a struggle. 

" Now, Stoliker," said Yates, pointing the 
pistol at him, " what have you to say before I 
fire ? " 

" Nothing," answered the constable, " except 
that you will be hanged at Welland, instead of 
staying a few days in jail." 

Yates laughed. " That's not bad, Stoliker ; 
and I really believe there's some grit in you, if 
you are a man-catcher. Still, you were not in 
very much danger, as perhaps you knew. Now, 
if you should want this pistol again, just watch 
where it alights." And Yates, taking the 
weapon by the muzzle, tossed it as far as he 
could into the field. 

Stoliker watched its flight intently, then, put- 
ting his hand into his pocket, he took out some 
small object and flung it as nearly as he could 
to the spot where the revolver fell. 

" Is that how you mark the place? " asked 
Yates ; " or is it some spell that will enable you 
to find the pistol ? " 

" Neither," answered the constable quietly. 
" It is the key of the handcuffs. The duplicate 
is at Welland." 

Yates whistled a prolonged note, and looked 
with admiration at the little man. He saw the 
hopelessness of the situation. If he attempted 
to search for the key in the long grass, the 
chances were ten to one that Stoliker would 
stumble on the pistol before Yates found the 
key, in which case the reporter would be once 
more at the mercy of the law. 

" Stoliker, you're evidently fonder of my 
company than I am of yours. That wasn't a 
bad strategic move on your part, but it may 
cause you some personal inconvenience before 
I get these handcuffs filed off. I'm not going 
to Welland this trip, as you may be disappointed 



1fn tbe flkitet of Blarms* 209 

to learn. I have gone with you as far as I 
intend to. You will now come with me." 

" I shall not move," replied the constable 
firmly. 

" Very well, stay there," said Yates, twisting 
his hand around so as to grasp the chain that 
joined the cuffs. Getting a firm grip, he walked 
up the road, down which they had tramped a 
few minutes before. Stoliker set his teeth and 
tried to hold his ground, but was forced to 
follow. Nothing was said by either until 
several hundred yards were thus traversed. 
Then Yates stopped. 

" Having now demonstrated to you the fact 
that you must accompany me, I hope you will 
show yourself a sensible man, Stoliker, and come 
with me quietly. It will be less exhausting for 
both of us, and all the same in the end. You can 
do nothing until you get help. I am going to see 
the fight, which I feel sure will be a brief one, 
so I don't want to lose any more time in getting 
back. In order to avoid meeting people, and 
having me explain to them that you are my 
prisoner, I propose we go through the fields." 

One difference between a fool and a wise man 
is that the wise man always accepts the inevi- 
table. The constable was wise. The two 
crossed the rail fence into the fields, and walked 
along peaceably together Stoliker silent, as 
usual, with the grim confidence of a man who 
is certain of ultimate success, who has the 
nation behind him, with all its machinery work- 
ing in his favor ; Yates talkative, argumentative, 
and instructive by turns, occasionally breaking 
forth into song when the unresponsiveness of 
the other rendered conversation difficult. 

" Stoliker, how supremely lovely and quiet 
and restful are the silent, scented, spreading 
fields ! How soothing to a spirit tired of the 
city's din is this solitude, broken only by the 



210 irn tbe flfctoet of alarms. 

singing of the birds and the drowsy droning of 
the bee, erroneously termed ' bumble ' ! The 
green fields, the shady trees, the sweet fresh- 
ness of the summer air, untainted by city smoke, 
and over all the eternal serenity of the blue un- 
clouded sky how can human spite and human 
passion exist in such a paradise ? Does it all 
not make you feel as if you were an innocent 
child again, with motives pure and conscience 
white? " 

If Stoliker felt like an innocent child, he did 
not look it. With clouded brow he eagerly 
scanned the empty fields, hoping for help. But, 
although the constable made no reply, there 
was an answer that electrified Yates, and put 
all thought of the beauty of the country out of 
his mind. The dull report of a musket, far in 
front of them, suddenly broke the silence, fol- 
lowed by several scattering shots, and then the 
roar of a volley. This was sharply answered 
by the ring of rifles to the right. With an oath, 
Yates broke into a run. 

" They're at it ! " he cried, " and all on ac- 
count of your confounded obstinacy I shall 
miss the whole show. The Fenians have 
opened fire, and the Canadians have not been 
long in replying." 

The din of the firing now became incessant. 
The veteran in Yates was aroused. He was 
like an old war horse who again feels the in- 
toxicating smell of battle smoke. The lunacy 
of gunpower shone in his gleaming eye. 

" Come on, you loitering idiot ! " he cried to 
the constable, who had difficulty in keeping 
pace with him ; " come on, or, by the gods ! I'll 
break your wrist across a fence rail and tear 
this brutal iron from it." 

The savage face of the prisoner was trans- 
formed with the passion of war, and, for the 
first time that day, Stoliker quailed before the 



1Tn tbe /RMfcst ot Elarms. 211 

insane glare of his eyes. But if he was afraid, 
he did not show his fear to Yates. 

"Come on, you ! " he shouted, springing 
ahead, and giving a twist to the handcuffs well 
known to those who have to deal with refrac- 
tory criminals. " I am as eager to see the fight 
as you are." 

The sharp pain brought Yates to his senses 
again. He laughed, and said : " That's the 
ticket. I'm with you. Perhaps you would not 
be in such a hurry if you knew that I am going 
into the thick of the fight, and intend to use 
you as a shield from the bullets." 

" That's all right," answered the little con- 
stable, panting. " Two sides are firing. I'll 
shield you on one side, and you'll have to shield 
me on the other." 

Again Yates laughed, and they ran silently 
together. Avoiding the houses, they came out 
at the Ridge Road. The smoke rolled up above 
the trees, showing where the battle was going 
on some distance beyond. Yates made the 
constable cross the fence and the road, and 
take to the fields again, bringing him around 
behind Bartlett's house and barn. No one was 
visible near the house except Kitty -Bartlett, who 
stood at the back watching, with pale and 
anxious face, the rolling smoke, now and 
then covering her ears with her hands as the 
sound of an extra loud volley assailed them. 
Stoliker lifted up his voice and shouted for 
help. 

" If you do that again," cried Yates, clutch- 
ing him by the throat, " I'll choke you ! " 

But he did not need to do it again. The 
girl heard the cry, turned with a frightened 
look, and was about to fly into the house when 
she recognized the two. Then she came toward 
them. Yates took his hand away from the con- 
stable's throat. 



212 Un tbe flMDst of Blatms* 

" Where is your father or your brother ? " de- 
manded the constable. 

' I don't know." 

1 Where is your mother? " 

'She is over with Mrs. Howard, who is ill." 

' Are you all alone ? " 
'Yes." 

' Then I command you, in the name of the 
Queen, to give no assistance to this prisoner, but 
to do as I tell you." 

" And I command you, in the name of the 
President," cried Yates, " to keep your mouth 
shut, and not to address a lady likethat. Kitty," 
he continued in a milder tone, " could you tell 
me where to get a file, so that I may cut these 
wrist ornaments ? Don't you get it. You are 
to do nothing. Just indicate where the file is. 
The law mustn't have any hold on you, as it 
seems to have on me." 

" Why don't you make him unlock them ? " 
asked Kitty. 

" Because the villain threw away the key in 
the fields." 

" He couldn't have done that." 

The constable caught his breath. 

" But he did. I saw him." 

" And I saw him unlock them at breakfast. 
The key was on the end of his watch chain. 
He hasn't thrown that away." 

She made a move to take out his watch chain 
but Yates stopped her. 

" Don't touch him. I'm playing a lone hand 
here." He jerked out the chain, and the real 
key dangled from it. 

" Well, Stoliker," he said, " I don't know 
which to admire most your cleverness and 
pluck, my stupidity, or Miss Bartlett's acuteness 
of observation. Can we get into the barn, 
Kitty?" 

" Yes ; but you mustn't hurt him." 



1Fn tbe /lIMDst of Alarms, 213 

"No fear. I think too much of him. Don't 
you come in. I'll be out in a moment, like the 
medium from a spiritualistic dark cabinet." 

Entering the barn, Yates forced the constable 
up against the square oaken post which was 
part of the framework of the building, and 
which formed one side of the perpendicular 
ladder that led to the top of the hay mow. 

" Now, Stoliker," he said solemnly, " you 
realize, of course, that I don't want to hurt you ; 
yet you also realize that I must hurt you if you 
attempt any tricks. I can't take any risks, 
please remember that ; and recollect that, by 
the time you are free again, I shall be in the 
State of New York. So don't compel me to 
smash your head against this post." He, with 
some trouble, unlocked the clasp on his own 
wrist; then, drawing Stoliker's right hand 
around the post, he snapped the same clasp on 
the constable's hitherto free wrist. The unfor- 
tunate man, with his cheek against the oak, was 
in the comical position of lovingly embracing 
the post. 

" I'll get you a chair from the kitchen, so that 
you will be more comfortable unless, like 
Samson, you can pull down the supports. Then 
I must bid you good-by." 

Yates went out to the girl, who was waiting 
for him. 

" I want to borrow a kitchen chair, Kitty," he 
said, " so that poor Stoliker will get a rest." 

They walked toward the house. Yates 
noticed that the firing had ceased, except a 
desultory shot here and there across the 
country. 

" I shall have to retreat over the border as 
quickly as I can," he continued. " This country 
is getting too hot for me." 

" You are much safer here," said the girl, with 
downcast eyes. " A man has brought the news 



214 fn tbe dfctost of Blarms. 

that the United States gunboats are sailing up 
and down the river, making prisoners of all who 
attempt to cross from this side." 

" You don't say ! Well, I might have known 
that. Then what am I to do with Stoliker? I 
can't keep him tied up here. Yet the moment 
he gets loose I'm done for." 

" Perhaps mother could persuade him not to 
do anything more. Shall I go for her?" 

" I don't think it would be any use. Stoli- 
ker's a stubborn animal. He has suffered too 
much at my hands to be in a forgiving mood. 
We'll bring him a chair, anyhow, and see the 
effect of kindness on him." 

When the chair was placed at Stoliker's dis- 
posal, he sat down upon it, still hugging the 
post with an enforced fervency that, in spite of 
the solemnity of the occasion, nearly made 
Kitty laugh, and lit up her eyes with the 
mischievousness that had always delighted 
Yates. 

" How long am I to be kept here ? " asked 
the constable. 

" Oh, not long," answered Yates cheerily ; 
" not a moment longer than is necessary. I'll 
telegraph when I'm safe in New York State ; 
so you won't be here more than a day or two." 

This assurance did not appear to bring much 
comfort to Stoliker. 

" Look here," he said ; " I guess I know as 
well as the next man when I'm beaten. I have 
been thinking all this over. I am under the 
sheriff's orders, and not under the orders of 
that officer. I don't believe you've done any- 
thing, anyhow, or you wouldn't have acted 
quite the way you did. If the sheriff had sent 
me, it would have been different. As it is, if 
you unlock those cuffs, I'll give you my word 
I'll do nothing more unless I'm ordered to. 
Like as not they've forgotten all about you by 



1Fn tbe /lIM&st of Blarms* 215 

this time; and there's nothing on record, 

anyhow." 

" Do you mean it ? Will you act square ? " 
"Certainly Til act square. I don't suppose 

you doubt that. I didn't ask any favors before, 

and I did what I could to hold you." 

"Enough said," cried Yates. " I'll risk it." 
Stoliker stretched his arms wearily above his 

head when he was released. 

" I wonder," he said, now that Kitty was 

gone, " if there is anything to eat in the 

house?" 

" Shake !" cried Yates, holding out his hand 

to him. " Another great and mutual sentiment 

unites us, Stoliker. Let us go and see." 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

THE man who wanted to see the fight did 
not see it, and the man who did not want to 
see it saw it. Yates arrived on the field of 
conflict when all was over ; Renmark found the 
battle raging around him before he realized 
that things had reached a crisis. 

When Yates reached the tent, he found it 
empty and torn by bullets. The fortunes of 
war had smashed the jar, and the fragments 
were strewn before the entrance, probably by 
some disappointed man who had tried to 
sample the contents and had found nothing. 

" Hang it all ! " said Yates to himself, " I 
wonder what the five assistants that the Argus 
sent me have done with themselves ? If they 
are with the Fenians, beating a retreat, or, 
worse, if they are captured by the Canadians, 
they won't be able to get an account of this 
scrimmage through to the paper. Now, this is 
evidently the biggest item of the year it's in- 
ternational, by George ! It may involve Eng- 
land and the United States in a war, if both 
sides are not extra mild and cautious. I can't 
run the chance of the paper being left in the 
lurch. Let me think a minute. Is it my tip to 
follow the Canadians or the Fenians ? I wonder 
which is running the faster ? My men are evi- 
dently with the Fenians, if they were on the 
f round at all. If I go after the Irish Republic, 
shall run the risk of duplicating things ; but if 
I follow the Canadians, they may put me under 
arrest. Then we have more Fenian sympa- 
216 



1fn tbe dlMfcst of Blatms, 217 

thizers among our readers than Canadians, so 
the account from the invasion side of the fence 
will be the more popular. Yet a Canadian ver- 
sion would be a good thing, if I were sure the 
rest of the boys got in their work, and the 
chances are that the other papers won't have 
any reporters among the Canucks. Heavens ! 
What is a man to do? I'll toss up for it. 
Heads, the Fenians." 

He spun the coin in the air, and caught it. 

" Heads it is ! The Fenians are my victims. 
I'm camping on their trail, anyhow. Besides, 
it's safer than following the Canadians, even 
though Stoliker has got my pass." 

Tired as he was, he stepped briskly through 
the forest. The scent of a big item was in his 
nostrils, and it stimulated him like champagne. 
What was temporary loss of sleep compared to 
the joy of defeating the opposition press ? 

A blind man might have followed the trail of 
the retreating army. They had thrown away, 
as they passed through the woods, every article 
that impeded their progress. Once he came on 
a man lying with his face in the dead leaves. 
He turned him over. 

" His troubles are past, poor devil," said 
Yates, as he pushed on. 

" Halt ! Throw up your hands ! " came a cry 
from in front of him. 

Yates saw no one, but he promptly threw up 
his hands, being an adaptable man. 

" What's the trouble ? " he shouted. " I'm 
retreating, too." 

" Then retreat five steps farther. I'll count 
the steps. One." 

Yates strode one step forward, and then saw 
that a man behind a tree was covering him 
with a gun. The next step revealed a second 
captor, with a huge upraised hammer, like a 
Hercules with his club. Both men had 



218 Un tbe jfllMDst of Blarms. 

blackened faces, and resembled thoroughly dis- 
reputable fiends of the forest. Seated on the 
ground, in a semicircle, were half a dozen 
dejected prisoners. The man with the gun 
swore fearfully, but his comrade with the ham- 
mer was silent. 

" Come," said the marksman, " you blank 
scoundrel, and take a seat with your fellow- 
scoundrels. If you attempt to run, blank blank 
you, I'll fill you full of buckshot ! " 

" Oh, I'm not going to run, Sandy," cried 
Yates, recognizing him. " Why should I ? 
I've always enjoyed your company, and Mac- 
donald's. How are you, Mac ? Is this a little 
private raid of your own ? For which side are 
you fighting? And I say, Sandy, what's the 
weight of that old-fashioned bar of iron you 
have in your hands? I'd like to decide a bet. 
Let me heft it, as you said in the shop." 

" Oh, it's you, is it ? " said Sandy in a dis- 
appointed tone, lowering his gun. " I thought 
we had raked in another of them. The old 
man and I want to make it an even dozen." 

" Well, I don't think you'll capture any more. 
I saw nobody as I came through the woods. 
What are you going to do with this crowd?" 

"Brain 'em," said Macdonald laconically, 
speaking for the first time. Then he added 
reluctantly : " If any of 'em tries to escape." 

The prisoners were all evidently too tired and 
despondent to make any attempt at regaining 
their liberty. Sandy winked over Macdonald's 
shoulder at Yates, and by a slight side move- 
ment of his head he seemed to indicate that he 
would like to have some private conversation 
with the newspaper man. 

" I'm not your prisoner, am I ? " asked Yates. 

" No," said Macdonald. " You may go if 
you like, but not in the direction the Fenians 
have gone," 



1fn tbe fllM&st of Blarms, 219 

" I guess I won't need to go any farther, if 
you will give me permission to interview your 
prisoners. I merely want to get some points 
about the fight." 

" That's all right," said the blacksmith, " as 
long as you don't try to help them. If you do, 
I warn you there will be trouble." 

Yates followed Sandy into the depths of the 
forest, out of hearing of the others, leaving Mac- 
donald and his sledge-hammer on guard. 

When at a safe distance, Sandy stopped and 
rested his arms on his gun, in a pathfinder 
attitude. 

" Say," he began anxiously, " you haven't got 
some powder and shot on you by any chance ? " 

" Not an ounce. Haven't you any ammuni- 
tion ? " 

" No, and haven't had all through the fight. 
You see, we left the shop in such a hurry we 
never thought about powder and ball. As 
soon as a man on horseback came by shouting 
that there was a fight on, the old man he 
grabbed his sledge, and I took this gun that had 
been left at the shop for repairs, and off we 
started. I'm not sure that it would shoot if I 
had ammunition, but I'd like to try. I've scared 
some of them Fee-neens nigh to death with it, 
but I was always afraid one of them would pull 
a real gun on me, and then I don't know just 
what I'd 'a' done." 

Sandy sighed, and added, with the air of a 
man who saw his mistake, but was somewhat 
loath to acknowledge it : " Next battle there is 
you won't find me in it with a lame gun and no 
powder. I'd sooner have the old man's sledge. 
It don't miss fire." His eye brightened as he 
thought of Macdonald. " Say," he continued, 
with a jerk of his head back over his shoulder, 
" the boss is on the warpath in great style, aint 
he?" 



220 i[n tbe fllMDst of Blarma. 

" He is," said Yates, " but, for that matter, 
so are you. You can swear nearly as well as 
Macdonald himself. When did you take to 
it ? " 

" Oh, well, you see," said Sandy apologet- 
ically, " it don't come as natural to me as chew- 
ing, but, then, somebody's got to swear. The 
old man's converted, you know." 

" Ah, hasn't he backslid yet ? " 

" No, he hasn't. I was afraid this scrimmage 
was going to do for him, but it didn't ; and 
now I think that if somebody near by does a 
little cussing, not that anyone can cuss like the 
boss, he'll pull through. I think he'll stick this 
time. You'd ought to fcave seen him wading 
into them d d Fee-neens, swinging his sledge, 
and singing ' Onward, Christian soldiers.' 
Then, with me to chip in a cuss word now and 
again when things got hot, he pulled through 
the day without ripping an oath. I tell you, it 
was a sight. He bowled 'em over like nine- 
pins. You ought to 'a' been there." 

" Yes," said Yates regretfully. " I missed it, 
all on account of that accursed Stoliker. Well, 
there's no use crying over spilled milk, but I'll 
tell you one thing, Sandy : although I have no 
ammunition, I'll let you know what I have got. 
I have, in my pocket, one of the best plugs of 
tobacco that you ever put your teeth into." 

Sandy's eyes glittered. "Bless you!" was 
all he could say, as he bit off a corner of the 
offered plug. 

" You see, Sandy, there are compensations in 
this life, after all ; I thought you were out." 

" I haven't had a bite all day. That's the 
trouble with leaving in a hurry." 

" Well, you may keep that plug, with my 
regards. Now, I want to get back and inter- 
view those fellows. There's no time to be 
lost." 



1Fn tbe .fllMDst of Blarms. 221 

When they reached the group, Macdonald 
said : 

" Here's a man says he knows you, Mr. Yates. 
He claims he is a reporter, and that you will 
vouch for him." 

Yates strode forward, and looked anxiously 
at the prisoners, hoping, yet fearing, to find one 
of his own men there. He was a selfish man, 
and wanted the glory of the day to be all his 
own. He soon recognized one of the prisoners 
as Jimmy Hawkins of the staff of a rival daily, 
the New York Blade. This was even worse 
than he had anticipated. 

" Hello, Jimmy ! " he said, " how did you get 
here ? " 

" I was raked in by that adjective fool with 
the unwashed face." 

" Whose a fool ? " cried Macdonald in 
wrath, and grasping his hammer. He boggled 
slightly as he came to the " adjective," but got 
over it safely. It was evidently a close call, 
but Sandy sprang to the rescue, and cursed 
Hawkins until even the prisoners turned pale 
at the torrent of profanity. Macdonald looked 
with sad approbation at his pupil, not knowing 
that he was under the stimulus of newly acquired 
tobacco, wondering how he had attained such 
proficiency in malediction ; for, like all true 
artists, he was quite unconscious of his own 
merit in that direction. 

" Tell this hammer wielder that I'm no anvil. 
Tell him that I'm a newspaper man, and didn't 
come here to fight. He says that if you 
guarantee that I'm no Fenian he'll let me go." 

Yates sat down on a fallen log, with a frown 
on his brow. He liked to do a favor to a fellow- 
creature when the act did not inconvenience 
himself, but he never forgot the fact that busi- 
ness was business. 

" I can't conscientiously tell him that, Jimmy," 



222 Hn tbe /DMfcst of Blarma. 

said Yates soothingly. " How am I to know 
you are not a Fenian ? " 

" Bosh ! " cried Hawkins angrily. " Con- 
scientiously ? A lot you think of conscience 
when there is an item to be had." 

" We none of us live up to our better nature, 
Jimmy," continued Yates feelingly. " We can 
but do our best, which is not much. For 
reasons that you might fail to understand, I do 
not wish to run the risk of telling a lie. You 
appreciate my hesitation, don't you, Mr. Mac- 
donald ? You would not advise me to assert a 
thing I was not sure of, would you ? " 

" Certainly not," said the blacksmith ear- 
nestly. 

"You want to keep me here because you 
are afraid of me," cried the indignant Blade 
man. " You know very well I'm not a Fenian." 

" Excuse me, Jimmy, but I know nothing of 
the kind. I even suspect myself of Fenian 
leanings. How, then, can I be sure of you ? " 

" What's your game ? " asked Hawkins more 
calmly, for he realized that he himself would 
not be slow to take advantage of a rival's 
dilemma. 

" My game is to get a neat little account of 
this historical episode sent over the wires to the 
Argus. You see, Jimmy, this is my busy day. 
When the task is over, I will devote myself to 
your service, and will save you from being 
hanged, if I can ; although I shall do so with- 
out prejudice,' as the lawyers say, for I have 
always held that that will be the ultimate end 
of all the Blade staff." 

" Look here, Yates; play fair. Don't run in 
any conscientious guff on a prisoner. You see, 
I have known you these many years." 

" Yes, and little have you profited by a noble 
example. It is your knowledge of me that 
makes me wonder at your expecting me to let 



1Tn tbe /HMDst of Blarm0, 223 

you out of your hole without due considera- 
tion/' 

" Are you willing to make a bargain ? " 

" Always when the balance of trade is on 
my side." 

" Well, if you give me a fair start, I'll give 
you some exclusive information that you can't 
get otherwise." 

" What is it ? " 

" Oh, I wasn't born yesterday, Dick." 

" That is interesting information, Jimmy, but 
I knew it before. Haven't you something more 
attractive to offer?" 

" Yes, I have. I have the whole account of 
the expedition and the fight written out, all 
ready to send, if I could get my clutches on a 
telegraph wire. I'll hand it over to you, and 
allow you to read it, if you will get me out of 
this hole, as you call it. I'll give you permis- 
sion to use the information in any way you 
choose, if you will extricate me, and all I 
ask is a fair start in the race for a telegraph 
office." 

Yates pondered over the proposition for some 
moments. 

" I'll tell you what I'll do, Jimmy," he finally 
said. " I'll buy that account from you, and 
give you more money than the Blade will. 
And when I get back to New York I'll place 
you on the staff of the Argus at a higher salary 
than the Blade gives youtaking your own 
word for the amount." 

" What ! And leave my paper in the lurch ? 
Not likely." 

" Your paper is going to be left in the lurch, 
anyhow." 

" Perhaps. But it won't be sold by me. I'll 
burn my copy before I will let you have a glimpse 
of it. That don't need to interfere with your 
making me an offer of a better position when 



224 1Fn tbe /HM&st of alarms, 

we get back to New York ; but while my paper 
depends on me, I won't go back on it." 

" Just as you please, Jimmy. Perhaps I 
would do the same myself. I always was weak 
where the interests of the Argus were concerned. 
You haven't any blank paper you could lend me, 
Jimmy?" 

" I have, but I won't lend it." 

Yates took out his pencil, and pulled down 
his cuff. 

" Now, Mac," he said, " tell me all you saw 
of this fight." 

The blacksmith talked, and Yates listened, 
putting now and then a mark on his cuff. 
Sandy spoke occasionally, but it was mostly to 
tell of sledge-hammer feats or to corroborate 
something the boss said. One after another 
Yates interviewed the prisoners, and gathered 
together all the materials for that excellent full- 
page account " by an eyewitness " that after- 
ward appeared in the columns of the Argus. 
He had a wonderful memory, and simply jotted 
down figures with which he did not care to 
burden his mind. Hawkins laughed derisively 
now and then at the facts they were giving 
Yates, but the Argus man said nothing, merely 
setting down in shorthand some notes of the 
information Hawkins sneered at, which Yates 
considered was more than likely accurate and 
important. When he had got all he wanted, he 
rose. 

" Shall I send you help, Mac ? " he asked. 

" No," said the smith ; " I think I'll take 
these fellows to the shop, and hold them there 
till called for. You can't vouch for Hawkins, 
then, Mr. Yates ? " 

" Good Heavens, no ! I look on him as the 
most dangerous of the lot. These half-educated 
criminals, who have no conscientious scruples, 
always seem to me a greater menace to society 



1Fn tbe /HMDst of Blarms. 225 

than their more ignorant co-conspirators. Well, 
good-by, Jimmy. I think you'll enjoy life down 
at Mac's shop. It's the best place I've struck 
since I've been in the district. Give my love 
to all the boys, when they come to gaze at you. 
I'll make careful inquiries into your opinions, 
and as soon as I am convinced that you can be 
set free with safety to the community I'll drop 
in on you and do all I can. Meanwhile, so 
long." ' 

Yates' one desire now was to reach a tele- 
graph office, and write his article as it was being 
clicked off on the machine. He had his fears 
about the speed of a country operator, but he 
dared not risk trying to get through to Buffalo 
in the then excited state of the country. He 
quickly made up his mind to go to the Bartlett 
place, borrow a horse, if the Fenians had not 
permanently made off with them all, and ride 
as rapidly as he could for the nearest telegraph 
office. He soon reached the edge of the 
woods, and made his way across the fields to 
the house. He found young Bartlett at the 
barn. 

" Any news of the horses yet ? " was the first 
question he asked. 

" No," said ooung Bartlett gloomily ; " guess 
they've rode away with them." 

" Well, I must get a horse from somewhere 
to ride to the telegraph office. Where is the 
likeliest place to find one ? " 

" I don't know where you can get one, unless 
you steal the telegraph boy's nag ; it's in the 
stable now, having a feed." 

" What telegraph boy ? " 

" Oh, didn't you see him ? He went out to 
the tent to look for you, and I thought he had 
found you." 

" No, I haven't been at the tent for ever so 
long. Perhaps he has some news for me. I'm 



226 iTn tbe dIMDst of Alarms, 

going to the house to write, so send him in as 
soon as he gets back. Be sure you don't let 
him get away before I see him." 

" I'll lock the stable," said young Bartlett, 
" and then he won't get the horse, at any 
rate." 

Yates found Kitty in the kitchen, and he 
looked so flurried that the girl cried anxiously : 

"Are they after you again, Mr. Yates?" 

"No, Kitty; I'm after them. Say, I want 
all the blank paper you have in the house. 
Anything will do, so long as it will hold a lead- 
pencil mark." 

" A copy book such as the children use in 
school ? " 

" Just the thing." 

In less than a minute the energetic girl had 
all the materials he required ready for him in 
the front room. Yates threw off his coat, and 
went to work as if he were in his own den in 
the Argus building. 

" This is a of a vacation," he muttered 

to himself, as he drove his pencil at lightning 
speed over the surface of the paper. He took 
no note of the time until he had finished ; then 
he roused himself and sprang to his feet. 

" What in thunder has become of that tele- 
graph boy ? " he cried. " Well, it doesn't mat- 
ter ; I'll take the horse without his permission." 

He gathered up his sheets, and rushed for 
the kitchen. He was somewhat surprised to 
see the boy sitting there, gorging himself with 
the good things which that kitchen always 
afforded. 

" Hello, youngster ! how long have you been 
here ? " 

" I wouldn't let him go in to disturb you 
while you were writing," said Kitty, the boy's 
mouth being too full to permit of a reply. 

" Ah, that was right. Now, sonny, gulp that 



1Fn tbe /ilbifcet of Blarms. 227 

down and come in here ; I want to talk to you 
for a minute." 

The boy followed him into the front room. 

" Well, my son, I want to borrow your horse 
for the rest of the day." 

" You can't have it," said the boy promptly. 

" Can't have it ? I must have it. Why, I'll 
take it. You don't imagine you can stop me, 
do you ? " 

The boy drew himself up, and folded his arms 
across his breast. 

" What do you want with the horse, Mr. 
Yates ? " he asked. 

" I want to get to* the nearest telegraph office. 
I'll pay you well for it." 

" And what am I here for ? " 

"Why, to eat, of course. They'll feed you 
high while you wait." 

" Canadian telegraph office ? " 

" Certainly." 

" It's no good, Mr. Yates. Them Canadians 
couldn't telegraph all you've written in two 
weeks. I know 'em," said the boy with infinite 
scorn. " Besides, the Government has got hold 
of all the wires, and you can't get a private 
message through till it gets over its fright." 

" By George ! " cried Yates, taken aback, " I 
hadn't thought of that. Are you sure, boy? " 

" Dead certain." 

" Then what's to be done ? I must get 
through to Buffalo." 

" You can't. United States troops won't let 
you. They're stopping everybody except 
me," he added, drawing himself up, as if he 
were the one individual who stood in with the 
United States Government. 

" Can you get this dispatch through ? " 

" You bet ! That's why I came back. I knew, 
as soon as I looked at you, that you would write 
two or three columns of telegraph ; and your 



228 -ffn tbe flfotost of Blarm0. 

paper said ' Spare no expense,' you remember. 
So says I to myself : ' I'll help Mr. Yates to spare 
no expense. I'll get fifty dollars from that 
young man, seeing I'm the only person who 
can get across in time.' " 

" You were mighty sure of it, weren't you ? " 

" You just bet I was. Now, the horse is fed 
and ready, I'm fed and ready, and we're 
losing valuable time waiting for that fifty 
dollars." 

" Suppose you meet another newspaper man 
who wants to get his dispatch through to 
another paper, what will you do ? " 

" Charge him the same as I do you. If I 
meet two other newspaper men, that will be 
one hundred and fifty dollars ; but if you want 
to make sure that I won't meet any more news- 
paper men, let us call it one hundred dollars, 
and I'll take the risk of the odd fifty for the 
ready cash ; then if I meet a dozen newspaper 
men, I'll tell them I'm a telegraph boy on a 
vacation." 

"Quite so. I think you will be able to take 
care of yourself in a cold and callous world. 
Now, look here, young man ; I'll trust you if 
you'll trust me. I'm not a traveling mint, you 
know. Besides, I pay by results. If you don't 
get this dispatch through, you don't get any- 
thing. I'll give you an order for a hundred dol- 
lars, and as soon as I get to Buffalo I'll pay you 
the cash. I'll have to draw on the Argus 
when I get to Buffalo ; if my article has ap- 
peared, you get your cash ; if it hasn't, you're 
out. See ? " 

" Yes, I see. It won't do, Mr. Yates." 

" Why won't it do ? " 

"Because I say it won't. This is a cash 
transaction. Money down, or you don't get the 
goods. I'll get it through all right, but if I just 
miss, I'm not going to lose the money." 



1Tn tbe fllM&st of Blarms, 229 

" Very well, I'll take it to the Canadian tele- 
graph office." 

" All right, Mr. Yates. I'm disappointed in 
you. I thought you were some good. You 
aint got no sense, but I wish you luck. When 
I was at your tent, there was a man with a 
hammer taking a lot of men out of the woods. 
When one of them sees my uniform, he sings 
out he'd give me twenty-five dollars to take his 
stuff. I said I'd see him later, and I will. 
Good-by, Mr. Yates." 

" Hold on, there ! You're a young villain. 
You'll end in state's prison yet, but here's your 
money. Now, you ride like a house a-fire." 

After watching the departing boy until he 
was out of sight Yates, with a feeling of relief, 
started back to the tent. He was worried 
about the interview the boy had had with Haw- 
kins, and he wondered, now that it was too late, 
whether, after all, he had not Hawkins' manu- 
script in his pocket. He wished he had searched 
him. That trouble, however, did not prevent 
him from sleeping like the dead the moment 
he lay down in the tent. 



CHAPTER XIX. 

THE result of the struggle was similar in 
effect to an American railway accident of the 
first class. One officer and five privates were 
killed on the Canadian side, one man was miss- 
ing, and many were wounded. The number of 
the Fenians killed will probably never be known. 
Several were buried on the field of battle, others 
were taken back by O'NeiU's brigade when they 
retreated. 

Although the engagement ended as Yates 
had predicted, yet he was wrong in his estimate 
of the Canadians. Volunteers are invariably 
underrated by men of experience in military 
matters. The boys fought well, even when they 
saw their ensign fall dead before them. If the 
affair had been left entirely in their hands, the 
result might have been different as was shown 
afterward, when the volunteers, unimpeded by 
regulars, quickly put down a much more for- 
midable rising in the Northwest. But in the 
present case they were hampered by their 
dependence on the British troops, whose com- 
mander moved them with all the ponderous 
slowness of real war, and approached O'Neill 
as if he had been approaching Napoleon. He 
thus managed to get in a day after the fair on 
every occasion, being too late for the fight at 
Ridgeway, and too late to capture any con- 
siderable number of the flying Fenians at Fort 
Erie. The campaign, on the Canadian side, 
was magnificently planned and wretchedly 
carried out. The volunteers and regulars were 
230 



1fn tbe .fllMDat of Blarms, 231 

to meet at a point close to where the fight took 
place, but the British commander delayed two 
hours in starting, which fact the Canadian 
colonel did not learn until too late. These 
blunders culminated in a ghastly mistake on 
the field. The Canadian colonel ordered his 
men to charge across an open field, and attack 
the Fenian force in the woods a brilliant but 
foolish move. To the command the volunteers 
gallantly responded, but against stupidity the 
gods are powerless. In the field they were 
appalled to hear the order given to form square 
and receive cavalry. Even the schoolboys 
knew the Fenians could have no cavalry. 

Having formed their square, the Canadians 
found themselves the helpless targets of the 
Fenians in the woods. If O'Neill's forces had 
shot with reasonable precision, they must have 
cut the volunteers to pieces. The latter were 
victorious, if they had only known it ; but, in 
this hopeless square, panic seized them, and it 
was every man for himself ; at the same time, 
the Fenians were also retreating as fast as they 
could. This farce is known as the battle of 
Ridgeway, and would have been comical had it 
not been that death hovered over it. The 
comedy, without the tragedy, was enacted a 
day or two before at a bloodless skirmish which 
took place near a hamlet called Waterloo, which 
affray is dignified in Canadian annals as the 
second battle of that name. 

When the Canadian forces retreated, Ren- 
mark, who had watched the contest with 
all the helpless anxiety of a noncombatant, 
sharing the danger, but having no influence 
upon the result, followed them, making a wide 
detour to avoid the chance shots which were 
still flying. He expected to come up with the 
volunteers on the road, but was not successful. 
Through various miscalculations he did not 



232 tin tbe /BM&et of Blarms, 

succeed in finding them until toward evening. 
At first they told him that young Howard was 
with the company, and unhurt, but further 
inquiry soon disclosed the fact that he had not 
been seen since the fight. He was not among 
those who were killed or wounded, and it was 
nightfall before Renmark realized that opposite 
his name on the roll would be placed the 
ominous word " missing." Renmark remem- 
bered that the boy had said he would visit his 
home if he got leave ; but no leave had been 
asked for. At last Renmark was convinced 
that young Howard was either badly wounded 
or dead. The possibility of his desertion the 
professor did not consider for a moment, 
although he admitted to himself that it was 
hard to tell what panic of fear might come 
over a boy who, for the first time in his life, 
found bullets flying about his ears. 

With a heavy heart Renmark turned back 
and made his way to the fatal field. He found 
nothing on the Canadian side. Going over to 
the woods, he came across several bodies lying 
where they fell ; but they were all those of 
strangers. Even in the darkness he would 
have had no difficulty in recognizing the volun- 
teer uniform which he knew so well. He 
walked down to the Howard homestead, hoping, 
yet 'fearing, to hear the boy's voice the voice 
of a deserter. Everything was silent about the 
house, although a light shone through an upper 
window, and also through one below. He 
paused at the gate, not knowing what to do. 
It was evident the boy was not here, yet 
how to find the father or brother, without 
alarming Margaret or her mother, puzzled him. 
As he stood there the door opened, and he 
recognized Mrs. Bartlett and Margaret standing 
in the light. He moved away from the gate, 
and heard the older woman say : 



1Tn tbe diMDet of alarms. 233 

" Oh, she will be all right in the morning, 
now that she has fallen into a nice sleep. I 
wouldn't disturb her to-night, if I were you. It 
is nothing but nervousness and fright at that 
horrible firing. It's all over now, thank God. 
Good-night, Margaret." 

The good woman came through the gate, and 
then ran, with all the speed of sixteen, toward 
her own home. Margaret stood in the door- 
way, listening to the retreating footsteps. She 
was pale and anxious, but Renmark thought he 
had never seen anyone so lovely ; and he was 
startled to find that he had a most un-professor- 
like longing to take her in his arms and com- 
fort her. Instead of bringing her consolation, 
he feared it would be his fate to add to her 
anxiety ; and it was not until he saw she was 
about to close the door that he found courage 
to speak. 

" Margaret," he said. 

The girl had never heard her name pro- 
nounced in that tone before, and the cadence 
of it went direct to her heart, frightening her 
with an unknown joy. She seemed unable to 
move or respond, and stood there, with wide 
eyes and suspended breath, gazing into the 
darkness. Renmark stepped into the light, and 
she saw his face was haggard with fatigue and 
anxiety. 

" Margaret," he said again, " I want to speak 
with you a moment. Where is your brother? " 

" He has gone with Mr. Bartlett to see if he 
can find the horses. There is something 
wrong," she continued, stepping down beside 
him. " I can see it in your face. What is it ? " 

" Is your father in the house ? " 

" Yes, but he is worried about mother. Tell 
me what it is. It is better to tell me." 

Renmark hesitated. 

" Don't keep me in suspense like this," cried 



234 1fn tbe /flMDst of Blarms. 

the girl in a low but intense voice. " You have 
said too much or too little. Has anything hap- 
pened to Henry ? " 

" No. It is about Arthur I wanted to speak. 
You will not be alarmed ? " 

" I am alarmed. Tell me quickly." And 
the girl in her excitement laid her hands im- 
ploringly on his. 

" Arthur joined the volunteers in Toronto 
some time ago. Did you know that ? " 

" He never told me. I understand I think 
so, but I hope not. He was in the battle to- 
day. Is he has he been hurt ? " 

" I don't know. I'm afraid so," said Ren- 
mark hurriedly, now that the truth had to come 
out ; he realized, by the nervous tightening of 
the girl's unconscious grasp, how clumsily he 
was telling it. " He was with the volunteers 
this morning. He is not with them now. 
They don't know where he is. No one saw 
him hurt, but it is feared he was, and that he 
has been left behind. I have been all over the 
ground." 

" Yes, yes ? " 

" But I could not find him. I came here 
hoping to find him." 

"Take me to where the volunteers were," 
she sobbed. " I know what has happened. 
Come quickly." 

" Will you not put something on your head ? " 

" No, no. Come at once." Then, pausing, 
she said : " Shall we need a lantern ? " 

" No ; it is light enough when we get out 
from the shadow of the house." 

Margaret ran along the road so swiftly that 
Renmark had some trouble in keeping pace 
with her. She turned at the side road, and 
sped up the gentle ascent to the spot where the 
volunteers had crossed it. 

" Here is the place," said Renmark. 



1Fn tbe dlbtost of Blarms, 235 

"He could not have been hit in the field," 
she cried breathlessly, " for then he might have 
reached the house at the corner without climb- 
ing a fence. If he was badly hurt, he would 
have been here. Did you search this field ? " 

" Every bit of it. He is not here." 

" Then it must have happened after he 
crossed the road and the second fence. Did 
you see the battle ? " 

" Yes." 

"Did the Fenians cross the field after the 
volunteers ? " 

" No ; they did not leave the woods." 

" Then, if he was struck, it could not have 
been far from the other side of the second 
fence. He would be the last to retreat ; and 
that is why the others did not see him," said 
the girl, with confident pride in her brother's 
courage. 

They crossed the first fence, the road, and 
the second fence, the girl walking ahead for a 
few paces. She stopped, and leaned for a mo- 
ment against a tree. " It must have been 
about here," she said in a voice hardly audible. 
" Have you searched on this side ? " 

" Yes, for half a mile farther into the fields 
and woods." 

" No, no, not there ; but down along the 
fence. He knew every inch of this ground. If 
he were wounded here, he would at once try 
to reach our house. Search down along the 
fence. I I cannot go." 

Renmark walked along the fence, peering 
into the dark corners made by the zigzag of the 
rails ; and he knew, without looking back, that 
Margaret, with feminine inconsistency, was fol- 
lowing him. Suddenly she darted past him, 
and flung herself down in the long grass, 
wailing out a cry that cut Renmark like a 
knife. 



236 lfn tbe /llMSst of Btarms* 

The boy lay with his face in the grass, and 
his outstretched hand grasping the lower rail 
of the fence. He had dragged himself this far, 
and reached an insurmountable obstacle. 

Renmark drew the weeping girl gently away, 
and rapidly ran his hand over the prostrate lad. 
He quickly opened his tunic, and a thrill of joy 
passed over him as he felt the faint beating of 
the heart." 

" He is alive ! " he cried. " He will get well, 
Margaret." A statement somewhat premature 
to make on so hasty an examination. 

He rose, expecting a look of gratitude from 
the girl he loved. He was amazed to see her 
eyes almost luminous in the darkness, blazing 
with wrath. 

" When did you know he was with the volun- 
teers ? " 

" This morning early," said the professor, 
taken aback. 

" Why didn't you tell me ? " 

" He asked me not to do so." 

" He is a mere boy. You are a man, and 
ought to have a man's sense. You had no right 
to mind what a boy said. It was my right to 
know, and your duty to tell me. Through 
your negligence and stupidity my brother has 
lain here all day perhaps dying," she added 
with a break in her angry voice. 

" If you had known I didn't know anything 
was wrong until I saw the volunteers. I have 
not lost a moment since." 

" I should have known he was missing, with- 
out going to the volunteers." 

Renmark was so amazed at the unjust ac- 
cusation, from a girl whom he had made the 
mistake of believing to be without a temper of 
her own, that he knew not what to say. He 
was, however, to have one more example of in- 
consistency. 



1Fn tfoe flIMDst of Blarm0, 237 

" Why do you stand there doing nothing, now 
that I have found him ? " she demanded. 

It was on his tongue to say : " I stand here 
because you stand there unjustly quarreling 
with me," but he did not say it. Renmark was 
not a ready man, yet he did, for once, the right 
thing. 

" Margaret," he said sternly, " throw down 
that fence." 

This curt command, delivered in his most 
schoolmastery manner, was instantly obeyed. 
Such a task may seem a formidable one to set 
to a young woman, but it is a feat easily accom- 
plished in some parts of America. A rail fence 
lends itself readily to demolition. Margaret 
tossed a rail to the right, one to the left, and 
one to the right again, until an open gap took 
the place of that part of the fence. The pro- 
fessor examined the young soldier in the mean- 
time, and found his leg had been broken by a 
musket ball. He raised him up tenderly in his 
arms, and was pleased to hear a groan escape 
his lips. He walked through the open gap and 
along the road toward the house, bearing the 
unconscious form of his pupil. Margaret 
silently kept close to his side, her fingers every 
now and then unconsciously caressing the 
damp, curly locks of her brother. 

" We shall have to get a doctor ? " Her 
assertion was half an inquiry. 

"Certainly." 

" We must not disturb anyone in the house. 
It is better that I should tell you what to do 
now, so that we need not talk when we reach 
there." 

" We cannot help disturbing someone." 

" I do not think it will be necessary. If you 
will stay with Arthur, I will go for the doctor, 
and no one need know." 

" I will go for the doctor," 



238 lfn tbe fllMDet of Alarms. 

"You do not know the way. It is five or six 
miles. I will ride Gypsy, and will soon be back." 

" But there are prowlers and stragglers all 
along the roads. It is not safe for you to go 
alone." 

" It is perfectly safe. No horse that the 
stragglers have stolen can overtake Gypsy. 
Now, don't say anything more. It is best that 
I should go. I will run on ahead, and enter 
the house quietly. I will take the lamp to the 
room at the side, where the window opens to 
the floor. Carry him around there. I will be 
waiting for you at the gate, and will show you 
the way." 

With that the girl was off, and Renmark 
carried his burden alone. She was waiting for 
him at the gate, and silently led the way round 
the house, to where the door-window opened 
upon the bit of lawn under an apple tree. The 
light streamed out upon the grass. He placed 
the boy gently upon the dainty bed. It needed 
no second glance to tell Renmark whose room 
he was in. It was decorated with those pretty 
little knickknacks so dear to the heart of a girl 
in a snuggery she can call her own. 

" It is not likely you will be disturbed here," 
she whispered, "until I come back. I will tap 
at the window when I come with the doctor." 

" Don't you think it would be better and 
safer for me to go? I don't like the thought 
of your going alone." 

" No, no. Please do just what I tell you. 
You do not know the way. I shall be very 
much quicker. If Arthur should should 
wake, he will know you, and will not be 
alarmed, as he might be if you were a stranger." 

Margaret was gone before he could say any- 
thing more, and Renmark sat down, devoutly 
hoping no one would rap at the door of the 
room while he was there. 



CHAPTER XX. 

MARGARET spoke caressingly to her horse, 
when she opened the stable door, and Gypsy 
replied with that affectionate, low guttural 
whinny which the Scotch graphically term 
" nickering." She patted the little animal ; and 
if Gypsy was surprised at being saddled and 
bridled at that hour of the night, no protest was 
made, the horse merely rubbing its nose lovingly 
up and down Margaret's sleeve as she buckled 
the different straps. There was evidently a 
good understanding between the two. 

" No, Gyp," she whispered, " I have nothing 
for you to-night nothing but hard work and 
quick work. Now, you mustn't make a noise 
till we get past the house." 

On her wrist she slipped the loop of a riding 
whip, which she always carried, but never used. 
Gyp had never felt the indignity of the lash, and 
was always willing to do what was required 
merely for a word. 

Margaret opened the big gate before she 
saddled her horse, and there was therefore no 
delay in getting out upon the main road, 
although the passing of the house was an 
anxious moment. She feared that if her father 
heard the steps or the neighing of the horse he 
might come out to investigate. Halfway be- 
tween her own home and Bartlett's house she 
sprang lightly into the saddle. 

" Now, then, Gyp ! " 

No second word was required. Away they 

239 



240 fTn tbe flfctoet of Blarms. 

sped down the road toward the east, the mild 
June air coming sweet and cool and fresh from 
the distant lake, laden with the odors of the 
woods and the fields. The stillness was intense, 
broken only by the plaintive cry of the whip- 
poorwill, America's one-phrased nightingale, or 
the still more weird and eerie note of a distant 
loon. 

The houses along the road seemed deserted ; 
no lights were shown anywhere. The wildest 
rumors were abroad concerning the slaughter 
of the day ; and the population, scattered as it 
was, appeared to have retired into its shell. A 
spell of silence and darkness was over the land, 
and the rapid hoof beats of the horse sounded 
with startling distinctness on the harder portions 
of the road, emphasized by intervals of complete 
stillness, when the fetlocks sank in the sand and 
progress was more difficult for the plucky little 
animal. The only thrill of fear that Margaret 
felt on her night journey was when she entered 
the dark arch of an avenue of old forest trees 
that bordered the road, like a great, gloomy 
cathedral aisle, in the shadow of which any- 
thing might be hidden. Once the horse, with a 
jump of fear, started sideways and plunged 
ahead : Margaret caught her breath as she saw, 
or fancied she saw, several men stretched on 
the roadside, asleep or dead. Once in the open 
again she breathed more freely, and if it had 
not been for the jump of the horse, she would 
have accused her imagination of playing her a 
trick. Just as she had completely reassured 
herself a shadow moved from the fence to the 
middle of the road, and a sharp voice cried : 

" Halt ! " 

The little horse, as if it knew the meaning of 
the word, planted its two front hoofs together, 
and slid along the ground for a moment, com- 
ing so quickly to a standstill that it was with 



1Fn tbe jfiiM&st of alarm*. 241 

some difficulty Margaret kept her seat. She 
saw in front of her a man holding a gun, evi- 
dently ready to fire if she attempted to disobey 
his command. 

" Who are you, and where are you going ? " 
he demanded. 

" Oh, please let me pass ! " pleaded Margaret 
with a tremor of fear in her voice. " I am go- 
ing for a doctor for my brother ; he is badly 
wounded, and will perhaps die if I am delayed." 

The man laughed. 

" Oho ! " he cried, coming closer ; " a woman, 
is it ? and a young one, too, or I'm a heathen. 
Now, miss or missus, you get down. I'll have 
to investigate this. The brother business won't 
work with an old soldier. It's your lover you're 
riding for at this time of the night, or I'm no 
judge of the sex. Just slip down, my lady, and 
see if you don't like me better than him ; re- 
member that all cats are black in the dark. 
Get down, I tell you." 

" If you are a soldier, you will let me go. 
My brother is badly wounded. I must get to 
the doctor." 

" There's no ' must ' with a bayonet in front 
of you. If he has been wounded, there's plenty 
of better men killed to-day. Come down, my 
dear." 

Margaret gathered up the bridle rein, but, 
even in the darkness, the man saw her inten- 
tion. 

" You can't escape, my pretty. If you try it, 
you'll not be hurt, but I'll kill your horse. If 
you move, I'll put a bullet through him." 

" Kill my horse ? " breathed Margaret in 
horror, a fear coming over her that she had not 
felt at the thought of danger to herself. 

" Yes, missy," said the man, approaching 
nearer, and laying his hand on Gypsy's bridle. 
" But there will be no need of that. Besides, it 



242 lfn tbe /HMtet of Blarms, 

would make too much noise, and might bring 
us company, which would be inconvenient. So 
come down quietly, like the nice little girl you 
are." 

" If you will let me go and tell the doctor, I 
will come back here and be your prisoner." 

The man laughed again in low, tantalizing 
tones. This was a good joke. 

" Oh, no, sweetheart. I wasn't born so re- 
cently as all that. A girl in the hand is worth 
a dozen a mile up the road. Now, come off 
that horse, or I'll take you off. This is war 
time, and I'm not going to waste any more 
pretty talk on you." 

The man, who, she now saw, was hatless, 
leered up at her, and something in his sinister 
eyes made the girl quail. She had been so quiet 
that he apparently was not prepared for any 
sudden movement. Her right hand, hanging 
down at her side, had grasped the short riding 
whip, and, with a swiftness that gave him no 
chance to ward off the blow, she struck him one 
stinging, blinding cut across the eyes, and then 
brought down the lash on the flank of her 
horse, drawing the animal round with her left 
over her enemy. With a wild snort of aston- 
ishment, the horse sprang forward, bringing 
man and gun down to the ground with a clatter 
that woke the echoes ; then, with an indignant 
toss of the head, Gyp sped along the road like 
the wind. It was the first time he had ever 
felt the cut of a whip, and the blow was not 
forgiven. Margaret, fearing further obstruction 
on the road, turned her horse's head toward the 
rail fence, and went over it like a bird. In the 
field, where fast going in the dark had dangers, 
Margaret tried to slacken the pace, but the little 
horse would not have it so. He shook his head 
angrily whenever he thought of the indignity of 
that blow, while Margaret leaned over and tried 



1Fn tbe .fllMDst of Blarm0, 243 

to explain and beg pardon for her offense. 
The second fence was crossed with a clean-cut 
leap, and only once in the next field did the 
horse stumble, but quickly recovered and went 
on at the same breakneck gait. The next 
fence, gallantly vaulted over, brought them to 
the side road, half a mile up which stood the 
doctor's house. Margaret saw the futility of 
attempting a reconciliation until the goal was 
won. There, with difficulty, the horse was 
stopped, and the girl struck the panes of the 
upper window, through which a light shone, 
with her riding whip. The window was raised, 
and the situation speedily explained to the 
physician. 

" I will be with you in a moment," he said. 

Then Margaret slid from the saddle, and put 
her arms around the neck of the trembling 
horse. Gypsy would have nothing to do with 
her, and sniffed the air with offended dignity. 

" It was a shame, Gyp," she cried, almost 
tearfully, stroking the glossy neck of her resent- 
ful friend ; " it was, it was, and I know it ; but 
what was I to do, Gyp ? You were the only 
protector I had, and you did bowl him over 
beautifully ; no other horse could have done it 
so well. It's wicked, but I do hope you hurt 
him, just because I had to strike you." 

Gypsy was still wrathful, and indicated by a 
toss of the head that the wheedling of a woman 
did not make up for a blow. It was the insult 
more than the pain ; and from her there was 
the sting of it. 

" I know I know just how you feel, Gypsy 
dear ; and I don't blame you for being angry. 
I might have spoken to you, of course i but 
there was no time to think, and it was really 
him I was striking. That's why it came down 
so hard. If I had said a word, he would have 
got out of the way, coward that he was, and 



244 1Tn tbc tfiMfcst of Blarms, 

then would have shot you you, Gypsy ! Think 
of it ! " 

If a man can be molded in any shape that 
pleases a clever woman, how can a horse ex- 
pect to be exempt from her influence. Gypsy 
showed signs of melting, whinnying softly and 
forgivingly. 

"And it will never happen again, Gypsy 
never, never. As soon as we are safe home 
again I will burn that whip. You little pet, I 
knew you wouldn't " 

Gypsy's head rested on Margaret's shoulder, 
and we must draw a veil over the reconciliation. 
Some things are too sacred for a mere man to 
meddle with. The friends were friends once 
more, and on the altar of friendship the unof- 
fending whip was doubtless offered as a burn- 
ing sacrifice. 

When the doctor came out, Margaret ex- 
plained the danger of the road, and proposed 
that they should return by the longer and 
northern way the Concession, as it was called. 

They met no one on the silent road, and 
soon they saw the light in the window. 

The doctor and the girl left their horses tied 
some distance from the house, and walked to- 
gether to the window with the stealthy steps 
of a pair of housebreakers. Margaret listened 
breathlessly at the closed window, and thought 
she heard the low murmur of conversation. 
She tapped lightly on the pane, and the pro- 
fessor threw back the door-window. 

" We were getting very anxious about you," 
he whispered. 

" Hello, Peggy ! " said the boy, with a wan 
smile, raising his head slightly from the pillow 
and dropping it back again. 

Margaret stooped over and kissed him. 

" My poor boy ! what a fright you have given 
me !" 



1Tn tbe dlM&st of Alarms, 245 

" Ah, Margery, think what a fright I got my- 
self. I thought I was going to die within sight 
of the house." 

The doctor gently pushed Margaret from the 
room. Renmark waited until the examination 
was over, and then went out to find her. 

She sprang forward to meet him. 

" It is all right," he said. " There is nothing 
to fear. He has been exhausted by loss of 
blood, but a few days' quiet will set that right, 
Then all you will have to contend against will 
be his impatience at being kept to his room, 
which may be necessary for some weeks." 

" Oh, I am so glad ! and and I am so much 
obliged to you, Mr. Renmark ! " 

" I have done nothing except make blun- 
ders," replied the professor with a bitterness 
that surprised and hurt her. 

" How can you say that ? You have done 
everything. We owe his life to you." 

Renmark said nothing for a moment. Her 
unjust accusation in the earlier part of the night 
had deeply pained him, and he hoped for some 
hint of disclaimer from her. Belonging to the 
stupider sex, he did not realize that the words 
were spoken in a state of intense excitement 
and fear, that another woman would probably 
have expressed her condition of mind by faint- 
ing instead of talking, and that the whole 
episode had left absolutely no trace on the 
recollection of Margaret. At last Renmark 
spoke : 

" I must be getting back to the tent, if it still 
exists. I think I had an appointment there 
with Yates some twelve hours ago, but up to 
this moment I had forgotten it. Good-night." 

Margaret stood for a few moments alone, and 
wondered what she had done to offend him. 
He stumbled along the dark road, not heeding 
much the direction he took, but automatically 



246 irn tbe flhibet of Blarma, 

going the nearest way to the tent. Fatigue and 
the want of sleep were heavy upon him, and his 
feet were as lead. Although dazed, he was con- 
scious of a dull ache where his heart was sup- 
posed to be, and he vaguely hoped he had not 
made a fool of himself. He entered the tent, 
and was startled by the voice of Yates : 

" Hello ! hello ! Is that you, Stoliker ? " 

" No ; it is Renmark. Are you asleep ? " 

" I guess I have been. Hunger is the one 
sensation of the moment. Have you provided 
anything to eat within the last twenty-four 
hours ? " 

" There's a bag full of potatoes here, I 
believe. I haven't been near the tent since 
early morning." 

" All right ; only don't expect a recommen- 
dation from me as cook. I'm not yet hungry 
enough for raw potatoes. What time has it 
got to be ? " 

" I'm sure I don't know." 

" Seems as if I had been asleep for weeks. 
I'm the latest edition of Rip Van Winkle, and 
expect to find my mustache gray in the morn- 
ing. I was dreaming sweetly of Stoliker when 
you fell over the bunk." 

" What have you done with him ? " 

" I'm not wide enough awake to remember. 
I think I killed him, but wouldn't be sure. So 
many of my good resolutions go wrong that 
very likely he is alive at this moment. Ask me 
in the morning. What have you been prowling 
after all night ? " 

There was no answer. Renmark was evi- 
dently asleep. 

" I'll ask you in the morning," muttered 
Yates drowily after which there was silence in 
the tent. 



CHAPTER XXI. 

YATES had stubbornly refused to give up his 
search for rest and quiet in spite of the dis- 
comfort of living in a leaky and battered tent. 
He expressed regret that he had not originally 
camped in the middle of Broadway, as being 
a quieter and less exciting spot than the place 
he had chosen ; but, having made the choice, 
he was going to see the last dog hung, he said. 
Renmark had become less and less of a com- 
rade. He was silent, and almost as gloomy as 
Hiram Bartlett himself. When Yates tried to 
cheer him up by showing him how much worse 
another man's position might be, Renmark 
generally ended the talk by taking to the wood. 

"Just reflect on my position," Yates would 
say. " Here I am dead in love with two lovely 
girls, both of whom are merely waiting for the 
word. To one of them I have nearly com- 
mitted myself, which fact, to a man of my tem- 
perament, inclines me somewhat to the other. 
Here I am anxious to confide in you, and yet I 
feel that I risk a fight every time I talk about 
the complication. You have no sympathy 
for me, Renny, when I need sympathy ; while I 
am bubbling over with sympathy for you, and 
you won't have it. Now, what would you do if 
you were in my fix ? If you would take five 
minutes and show me clearly which of the two 
girls I really ought to marry, it would help me 
ever so much, for then I would be sure to settle 



248 tfn tbe flbtost of Blarm0. 

on the other. It is the indecision that is slowly 
but surely sapping my vitality." 

By this time Ren mark would have pulled his 
soft felt hat over his eyes, and, muttering words 
that would have echoed strangely in the silent 
halls of the university building, would plunge 
into the forest. Yates generally looked after 
his retreating figure without anger, but with 
mild wonder. 

" Well, of all cantankerous cranks he is the 
worst," he would say with a sigh. " It is sad 
to see the temple of friendship tumble down 
about one's ears in this way." At their last talk 
of this kind Yates resolved not to discuss the 
problem again with the professor, unless a crisis 
came. The crisis came in the form of Stoliker, 
who dropped in on Yates as the latter lay in 
the hammock, smoking and enjoying a thrilling 
romance. The camp was strewn with these 
engrossing, paper-covered works, and Yates 
had read many of them, hoping to come across 
a case similar to his own, but up to the time of 
Stoliker's visit he had not succeeded. 

" Hello, Stoliker ! how's things ? Got the 
cuffs in your pocket ? Want to have another 
tour across country with me ? " 

" No. But I came to warn you. There will 
be a warrant out to-morrow or next day, and, if 
I were you, I would get over to the other side ; 
though you need never say I told you. Of 
course, if they give the warrant to me, I shall 
have to arrest you ; and although nothing may 
be done to you, still, the country is in a state of 
excitement, and you will at least be put to some 
inconvenience." 

" Stoliker," cried Yates, springing out of the 
hammock, " you are a white man ! You're a 
good fellow, Stoliker, and I'm ever so much 
obliged. If you ever come to New York, you 
call on me at the Argus office, anybody will 



1fn tbe dlMDst of Blatms, 249 

show you where it is, and I'll give you the 
liveliest time you ever had in your life. It won't 
cost you a cent, either." 

" That's all right," said the constable. " Now, 
if I were you, I would light out to-morrow at 
the latest." 

" I will," said Yates. 

Stoliker disappeared quietly among the trees, 
and Yates, after a moment's thought, began 
energetically to pack up his belongings. It 
was dark before he had finished, and Renmark 
returned. 

" Stilly," cried the reporter cheerily, " there's 
a warrant out for my arrest. I shall have to 
go to-morrow at the latest ! " 

" What ! to jail ? " cried his horrified friend, 
his conscience now troubling him, as the part- 
ing came, for his lack of kindness to an old 
comrade. 

" Not if the court knows herself. But to 
Buffalo, which is pretty much the same thing. 
Still, thank goodness, I don't need to stay there 
long. I'll be in New York before I'm many 
days older. I yearn to plunge into the arena 
once more. The still, calm peacefulness of this 
whole vacation has made me long for excite- 
ment again, and I'm glad the warrant has 
pushed me into the turmoil." 

"Well, Richard, I'm sorry you have to go 
under such conditions. I'm afraid I have not 
been as companionable a comrade as you 
should have had." 

" Oh, you're all right, Renny. The trouble 
with you is that you have drawn a little circle 
around Toronto University, and said to your- 
self : ' This is the world.' It isn't, you know. 
There is something outside of all that." 

" Every man, doubtless, has his little circle. 
Yours is around the Argus office." 

" Yes, but there are special wires from that 



250 lfn tbe fifoibst of Blarms. 

little circle to all the rest of the world, and soon 
there will be an Atlantic cable." 

" I do not hold that my circle is as large as 
yours ; still, there is something outside of New 
York, even." 

" You bet your life there is ; and, now that 
you are in a more sympathetic frame of mind, it 
is that I want to talk with you about. Those 
two girls are outside my little circle, and I 
want to bring one of them within it. Now, 
Renrnark, which of those girls would you 
choose if you were me ? " 

The professor drew in his breath sharply, 
and was silent for a moment. At last he said, 
speaking slowly : 

" I am afraid, Mr. Yates, that you do not 
quite appreciate my point of view. As you 
may think I have acted in an unfriendly man- 
ner, I will try for the first and final time to ex- 
plain it. I hold that any man who marries a 
good woman gets more than he deserves, no 
matter how worthy he may be. I have a pro- 
found respect for all women, and I think that 
your light chatter about choosing between two 
is an insult to both of them. I think either of 
them is infinitely too good for you or for me 
either." 

" Oh, you do, do you ? Perhaps you think 
that you would make a much better husband 
than I. If that is the case, allow me to say 
you are entirely wrong. If your wife was sensi- 
tive, you would kill her with your gloomy fits. I 
wouldn't go off in the woods and sulk, anyhow." 

" If you are referring to me, I will further 
inform you that I had either to go off in the 
woods or knock you down. I chose the less 
of two evils." 

" Think you could do it, I suppose ? Renny, 
you're conceited. You're not the first man who 
has made such a mistake, and found he was 



Ifn tbe flMtet of Blarma, 251 

barking up the wrong tree when it was too late 
for anything but bandages and arnica." 

" I have tried to show you how I feel regard- 
ing this matter. I might have known I should 
not succeed. We will end the discussion, if you 
please." 

" Oh, no. The discussion is just beginning. 
Now, Renny, I'll tell you what you need. You 
need a good, sensible wife worse than any man 
I know. It is not yet too late to save you, but 
it soon will be. You will, before long, grow 
a crust on you like a snail, or a lobster, or any 
other cold-blooded animal that gets a shell on 
itself. Then nothing can be done for you. 
Now, let me save you, Renny, before it is too 
late. Here is my proposition : You choose one 
of those girls and marry her. I'll take the 
other. I'm not as unselfish as I may seem in 
this, for your choice will save me the worry of 
making up my own mind. According to your 
talk, either of the girls is too good for you, and 
for once I entirely agree with you. But let that 
pass. Now, which one is it to be ? " 

" Good God ! man, do you think I am going 
to bargain with you about my future wife ? " 

" That's right, Renny. I like to hear you 
swear. It shows you are not yet the prig you 
would have folks believe. There's still hope for 
you, professor. Now, I'll go further with you. 
Although I cannot make up my mind just what 
to do myself, I can tell instantly which is the 
girl for you, and thus we solve both problems 
at one stroke. You need a wife who will take 
you in hand. You need one who will not put 
up with your tantrums, who will be cheerful, 
and who will make a man of you. Kitty Bart- 
lett is the girl. She will tyrannize over you, 
just as her mother does over the old man. She 
will keep house to the queen's taste, and delight 
in getting you good things to eat. Why, qvery- 



252 -ffn tbe /HMDst of Blarms. 

thing is as plain as a pikestaff. That shows 
the benefit of talking over a thing. You marry 
Kitty, and I'll marry Margaret. Come, let's 
skake hands over it." Yates held up his right 
hand, ready to slap it down on the open palm 
of the professor, but there was no response. 
Yates' hand came down to his side again, but 
he had not yet lost the enthusiasm of his pro- 
posal. The more he thought of it the more 
fitting it seemed. 

" Margaret is such a sensible, quiet, level- 
headed girl that, if I am as flippant as you say, 
she will be just the wife for me. There are 
depths in my character, Renmark, that you have 
not suspected." 

" Oh, you're deep." 

" I admit it. Well, a good, sober-minded 
woman would develop the best that is in me. 
Now, what do you say, Renny ? " 

" I say nothing. I am going into the woods 
again, dark as it is." 

" Ah, well," said Yates with a sigh, "there's 
no doing anything with you or for you. I've 
tried my best ; that is one consolation. Don't 
go away. I'll let fate decide. Here goes for a 
toss-up." 

And Yates drew a silver half dollar from his 
pocket. " Heads for Margaret ! " he cried. 
Renmark clinched his fist, took a step forward, 
then checked himself, remembering that this 
was his last night with the man who had at 
least once been his friend. 

Yates merrily spun the coin in the air, caught 
it in one hand, and slapped the other over it. 

" Now for the turning point in the lives of 
two innocent beings." He raised the covering 
hand, and peered at the coin in the gathering 
gloom. " Heads it is. Margaret Howard 
becomes Mrs. Richard Yates. Congratulate 
me, professor." 



1Fn tbe /BM&st of Blarms. 253 

Renmark stood motionless as a statue, an 
object lesson in self-control. Yates set his hat 
more jauntily on his head, and slipped the 
epoch-making coin into his trousers pocket. 

" Good-by, old man," he said. " I'll see you 
later, and tell you all the particulars." 

Without waiting for the answer, for which 
he probably knew there would have been little 
use in delaying, Yates walked to the fence and 
sprang over it, with one hand on the top rail. 
Renmark stood still for some minutes, then, 
quietly gathering underbrush and sticks large 
and small, lighted a fire, and sat down on a 
log, with his head in his hands. 



CHAPTER XXII. 

YATES walked merrily down the road, whis- 
tling " Gayly the troubadour." Perhaps there 
is no moment in a man's life when he feels the 
joy of being alive more keenly than when he 
goes to propose to a girl of whose favorable 
answer he is reasonably sure unless it be the 
moment he walks away an accepted lover. 
There is a magic about a June night, with its 
soft, velvety darkness and its sweet, mild air 
laden with the perfumes of wood and field. 
The enchantment of the hour threw its spell 
over the young man, and he resolved to live a 
better life, and be worthy of the girl he had 
chosen, or, rather, that fate had chosen for him. 
He paused a moment, leaning over the fence 
near the Howard homestead, for he had not 
yet settled in his own mind the details of the 
meeting. He would not go in, for in that case 
he knew he would have to talk, perhaps for 
hours, with everyone but the person he wished 
to meet. If he announced himself and asked to 
see Margaret alone, his doing so would embar- 
rass her at the very beginning. Yates was 
naturally too much of a diplomat to begin 
awkwardly. As he stood there, wishing chance 
would bring her out of the house, there ap- 
peared a light in the door-window of the room 
where he knew the convalescent boy lay. Mar- 
garet's shadow formed a silhouette on the 
blind. Yates caught up a handful of sand, and 
flung it lightly against the pane. Its soft 
patter evidently attracted the attention of the 

254 



1fn tbe /llMDst of Blarms* 255 

girl, for, after a moment's pause, the window 
opened carefully, while Margaret stepped 
quickly out and closed it, quietly standing there. 

" Margaret," whispered Yates hardly above 
his breath. 

The girl advanced toward the fence. 

" Is that you ? " she whispered in return, 
with an accent on the last word that thrilled 
her listener. The accent told plainly as speech 
that the word represented the one man on 
earth to her. 

" Yes, " answered Yates, springing over the 
fence and approaching her. 

" Oh ! " cried Margaret, starting back, then 
checking herself, with a catch in her voice. 
" You you startled me Mr. Yates." 

" Not Mr. Yates any more, Margaret, but 
Dick. Margaret, I wanted to see you alone. 
You know why I have come." He tried to 
grasp both her hands, but she put them reso- 
lutely behind her, seemingly wishing to retreat, 
yet standing her ground. 

" Margaret, you must have seen long ago how 
it is with me. I love you, Margaret, loyally and 
truly. It seems as if I had loved you all my 
life. I certainly have since the first day I saw 
you." 

" Oh, Mr. Yates, you must not talk to me like 
this." 

" My darling, how else can I talk to you ? It 
cannot be a surprise to you, Margaret. You 
must have known it long ago." 

" I did not, indeed I did not if you really 
mean it." 

" Mean it ? I never meant anything as I 
mean this. It is everything to me, and nothing 
else is anything. I have knocked about the 
world a good deal, I admit, but I never was in 
love before never knew what love was until I 
met you. I tell you that " 



256 iln tbe flJMDst of 2llarm8, 

" Please, please, Mr. Yates, do not say any- 
thing more. If it is really true, I cannot tell 
you how sorry I am. I hope nothing I have 

said or done has made you believe that that 

Oh, I do not know what to say ! I never thought 
you could be in earnest about anything." 

" You surely cannot have so misjudged me, 
Margaret. Others have, but I did not expect 
it of you. You are far and away better than I 
am. No one knows that so well as I. I do 
not pretend to be worthy of you, but I will be a 
devoted husband to you. Any man who gets 
the love of a good woman," continued Yates 
earnestly* plagiarizing Renmark, " gets more 
than he deserves ; but surely such love as mine 
is not given merely to be scornfully trampled 
underfoot." 

" I do not treat your you scorn fully. I am 
only sorry if what you say is true." 

" Why do you say (fit is true ? Don't you 
know it is true ? " 

" Then I am veiy sorry very, very sorry, and 
I hope it is through no fault of mine. But you 
will soon forget me. When you return to New 
York " 

" Margaret," said the young man bitterly, " I 
shall never forget you. Think what you are 
doing before it is too late. Think how much 
this means to me. If you finally refuse me, you 
will wreck my life. I am the sort of man that' 
a woman can make or mar. Do not, I beg 
of you, ruin the life of the man who loves 
you." 

" I am not a missionary," cried Margaret 
with sudden anger. " If your life is to be 
wrecked, it will be through your own foolish- 
ness, and not from any act of mine. I think it 
cowardly of you to say that I am to be held 
responsible. I have no wish to influence your 
future one way or another." 



1fn tbe /BM&st of Blarms. 257 

" Not for good, Margaret ? " asked Yates 
with tender reproach. 

" No. A man whose good or bad conduct 
depends on anyone but himself is not my ideal 
of a man." 

" Tell me what your ideal is, so that I may 
try to attain it." 

Margaret was silent. 

" You think it will be useless for me to try? " 

" As far as I am concerned, yes." 

" Margaret, I want to ask you one more ques- 
tion. I have no right to, but I beg you to an- 
swer me. Are you in love with anyone else ? " 

" No ! " cried Margaret hotly. " How dare 
you ask me such a question ? " 

" Oh, it is not a crime that is, being in love 
with someone else is not. I'll tell you why I 
dare ask. I swear, by all the gods, that I 
shall win you if not this year, then next ; and 
if not next, then the year after. I was a 
coward to talk as I did ; but I love you more 
now than I did even then. All I want to know 
is that you are not in love with another man." 

" I think you are very cruel in persisting as 
you do, when you have had your answer. I 
say no. Never ! never ! never ! this year nor 
any other year. Is not that enough ? " 

" Not for me. A woman's ' no ' may ulti- 
timately mean * yes.' " 

" That is true, Mr. Yates," replied Margaret, 
drawing herself up as one who makes a final 
plunge. " You remember the question you 
asked me just now ? whether I cared for any- 
one else ? I said ' no.' That ' no ' meant ' yes.' " 

He was standing between her and the window, 
so she could not escape by the way she came. 
He saw she meditated flight, and made as 
though he would intercept her, but she was too 
quick for him. She ran around the house, and 
he heard a door open and shut. 



258 1ln tbe /BMtet of Blarma. 

He knew he was defeated. Dejectedly he 
turned to the fence, climbing slowly over where 
he had leaped so lightly a few minutes before, 
and walked down the road, cursing his fate. 
Although he admitted he was a coward for 
talking to her as he had done about his wrecked 
life, yet he knew now that every word he had 
spoken was true. What did the future hold 
out to him ? Not even the incentive to live. 
He found himself walking toward the tent, but, 
not wishing to meet Renmark in his present 
frame of mind, he turned and came out on the 
Ridge Road. He was tired and broken, and 
resolved to stay in camp until they arrested 
him. Then perhaps she might have some pity 
on him. Who was the other man she loved ? 
or had she merely said that to give finality to 
her refusal ? In his present mood he pictured 
the worst, and imagined her the wife of some 
neighboring farmer perhaps even of Stoliker. 
These country girls, he said to himself, never 
believed a man was worth looking at unless he 
owned a farm. He would save his money, and 
buy up the whole neighborhood ; then she 
would realize what she had missed. He 
climbed up on the fence beside the road, and 
sat on the top rail, with his heels resting on a 
lower one, so that he might enjoy his misery 
without the fatigue of walking. His vivid im- 
agination pictured himself as the owner in a 
few years' time of a large section of that part 
of the country, with mortgages on a good deal 
of the remainder, including the farm owned by 
Margaret's husband. He saw her now, a 
farmer's faded wife, coming to him and begging 
for further time in which to pay the seven per 
cent. due. He knew he would act magnani- 
mously on such an occasion, and grandly give 
her husband all the time he required. Perhaps 
then she would realize the mistake she had 



1Fn tbe ,fflM&0t of Blatm0, 259 

made. Or perhaps fame, rather than riches, 
would be his line. His name would ring 
throughout the land. He might become a 
great politician, and bankrupt Canada with a 
rigid tariff law. The unfairness of making the 
whole innocent people suffer for the inconsider- 
ate act of one of them did not occur to him at 
the moment, for he was humiliated and hurt. 
There is no bitterness like that which assails 
the man who has been rejected by the girl he 
adores while it lasts. His eye wandered 
toward the black mass of the Howard house. 
It was as dark as his thoughts. He turned his 
head slowly around, and, like a bright star of 
hope, there glimmered up the road a flickering 
light from the Bartletts' parlor window. Al- 
though time had stopped as far as he was con- 
cerned, he was convinced it could not be very 
late, or the Bartletts would have gone to bed. 
It is always difficult to realize that the greatest 
of catastrophes are generally over in a few 
minutes. It seemed an age since he walked so 
hopefully away from the tent. As he looked at 
the light the thought struck him that perhaps 
Kitty was alone in the parlor. She at least 
would not have treated him so badly as the 
other girl ; and and she was pretty, too, come 
to think of it. He always did like a blonde 
better than a brunette. 

A fence rail is not a comfortable seat. It is 
used in some parts of the country in such a 
manner as to impress the sitter with the fact 
of its extreme discomfort, and as a gentle hint 
that his presence is not wanted in that immedi- 
ate neighborhood. Yates recollected this, with a 
smile, as he slid off and stumbled into the ditch 
by the side of the road. His mind had been so 
preoccupied that he had forgotten about the 
ditch. As he walked along the road toward the 
star that guided him he remembered he had 



260 flu tbe /llMDst of Blarms. 

recklessly offered Miss Kitty to the callous pro- 
fessor. After all, no one knew about the epi- 
sode of a short time before except himself and 
Margaret, and he felt convinced she was not 
a girl to boast of her conquests. Anyhow, it 
didn't matter. A man is surely master of him- 
self. 

As he neared the window he looked in. Peo- 
ple are not particular about lowering the blinds 
in the country. He was rather disappointed to 
see Mrs. Bartlett sitting there knitting, like the 
industrious woman she was. Still it was con- 
soling to note that none of the men-folks were 
present, and that Kitty, with her fluffy hair half 
concealing her face, sat reading a book he had 
lent to her. He rapped at the door, and it was 
opened by Mrs Bartlett, with some surprise. 

" For the land's sake ! is that you, Mr. 
Yates ? " 

" It is." 

"Come right in. Why, what's the matter 
with you ? You look as if you had lost your best 
friend. Ah, I see how it is," Yates started, 
" you have run out of provisions, and are very 
likely as hungry as a bear." 

"You've hit it first time, Mrs. Bartlett. I 
dropped around to see if I could borrow a loaf 
of bread. We don't bake till to-morrow." 

Mrs. Bartlett laughed. 

" Nice baking you would do if you tried it. 
I'll get you a loaf in a minute. Are you sure 
one is enough ? " 

" Quite enough, thank you." 

The good woman bustled out to the other 
room for the loaf, and Yates made good use of 
her temporary absence. 

" Kitty," he whispered, " I want to see you 
alone for a few minutes. I'll wait for you at 
the gate. Can you slip out ? " 

Kitty blushed very red and nodded. 



1Fn tbe /RMfcst of Blarms, 261 

" They have a warrant out for my arrest, and 
I'm off to-morrow before they can serve it. 
But I couldn't go without seeing you. You'll 
come, sure ? " 

Again Kitty nodded, after looking up at him 
in alarm when he spoke of the warrant. 
Before anything further could be said Mrs. 
Bartlett came in, and Kitty was absorbed in 
her book. 

" Won't you have something to eat now 
before you go back ? " 

" Oh, no, thank you, Mrs. Bartlett. You see, 
the professor is waiting for me." 

" Let him wait, if he didn't have sense enough 
to come." 

" He didn't. I offered him the chance." 

" It won't take us a moment to set the table. 
It is not the least trouble." 

" Really, Mrs. Bartlett, you are very kind. I 
am not in the slightest degree hungry now. I 
am merely taking some thought of the morrow. 
No ; I must be going, and thank you very 
much." 

" Well," said Mrs. Bartlett, seeing him to the 
door, " if there's anything you want, come to 
me, and I will let you have it if it's in the 
house." 

" You are too good to me," said the young 
man with genuine feeling, " and I don't 
deserve it ; but I may remind you of your 
promise to-morrow." 

" See that you do," she answered. " Good- 
night." 

Yates waited at the gate, placing the loaf on 
the post, where he forgot it, much to the aston- 
ishment of the donor in the morning. He did 
not have to wait long, for Kitty came around 
the house somewhat shrinkingly, as one who 
was doing the most wicked thing that had been 
done since the world began. Yates hastened 



262 fltrtbe jflfctost of Blarma, 

to meet her, clasping one of her unresisting 
hands in his. 

" I must be off to-morrow," he began. 

" I am very sorry," answered Kitty in a 
whisper. 

" Ah, Kitty, you are not half so sorry as I am. 
But I intend to come back, if you will let me. 
Kitty, you remember that talk we had in the 
kitchen, when we when there was an interrup- 
tion, and when I had to go away with our 
friend Stoliker ? " 

Kitty indicated that she remembered it. 

" Well, of course you know what I wanted to 
say to you. Of course you know what I want 
to say to you now." 

It seemed, however, that in this he was mis- 
taken, for Kitty had not the slightest idea, and 
wanted to go into the house, for it was late, and 
her mother would miss her. 

" Kitty, you darling little humbug, you know 
that I love you. You must know that I have 
loved you ever since the first day I saw you, 
when you laughed at me. Kitty, I want you to 
marry me and make something of me, if that is 
possible. I am a worthless fellow, not half 
good enough for a little pet like you ; but, 
Kitty, if you will only say ' yes,' I will try, and 
try hard, to be a better man than I have ever 
been before." 

Kitty did not say "yes," but she placed her 
disengaged hand, warm and soft, upon his, and 
Yates was not the man to have any hesitation 
about what to do next. To practical people it 
may seem an astonishing thing that, the object 
of the interview being happily accomplished, 
there should be any need of prolonging it ; yet 
the two lingered there, and he told her much of 
his past life, and of how lonely and sordid it 
had been because he had no one to care for 
him at which her pretty eyes filled with tears. 



1fn tbe dlMDst of Blarms, 263 

She felt proud and happy to think she had won 
the first great love of a talented man's life, and 
hoped she would make him happy, and in a 
measure atone for the emptiness of the life that 
had gone before. She prayed that he might 
always be as fond of her as he was then, and 
resolved to be worthy of him if she could. 

Strange to say, her wishes have been amply 
fulfilled, and few wives are as happy or as 
proud of their husbands as Kitty Yates. The 
one woman who might have put the drop of 
bitterness in her cup of life merely kissed her 
tenderly when Kitty told her of the great joy 
that had come to her, and said she was sure 
she would be happy ; and thus for the second 
time Margaret told the thing that was not, but 
for once Margaret was wrong in her fears. 

Yates walked to the tent a glorified man, leav- 
ing his loaf on the gatepost behind him. Few 
realize that it is quite as pleasant to be loved as 
to love. The verb " to love " has many con- 
jugations. The earth he trod was like no 
other ground he had ever walked upon. The 
magic of the June night was never so enchant- 
ing before. He strode along with his head and 
his thoughts in the clouds, and the Providence 
that cares for the intoxicated looked after him, 
and saw that the accepted lover came to no 
harm. He leaped the fence without even put- 
ting his hand to it, and then was brought to 
earth again by the picture of a man sitting with 
his head in his hands beside a dying fire. 



CHAPTER XXIII. 

YATES stood for a moment regarding the de- 
jected attitude of his friend. 

" Hello, old man ! " he cried, " you have the 
most ' hark-from-the-tombs ' appearance I ever 
saw. What's the matter ? " 

Renmark looked up. 

" Oh, it's you, is it ? " 

" Of course it's I. Been expecting anybody 
else ? " 

" No. I have been waiting for you, and 
thinking of a variety of things." 

" You look it. Well, Renny, congratulate 
me, my boy. She's mine, and I'm hers which 
are two ways of stating the same delightful fact. 
I'm up in a balloon, Renny. I'm engaged to 
the prettiest, sweetest, and most delightful girl 
there is from the Atlantic to the Pacific. 
What d'ye think of that? Say, Renmark, 
there's nothing on earth like it. You ought to 
reform and go in for being in love. It would 
make a man of you. Champagne isn't to be 
compared to it. Get up here and dance, and 
don't sit there like a bear nursing a sore paw. 
Do you comprehend that I am to be married to 
the darlingest girl that lives ? " 

"God help her!" 

"That's what I say. Every day of her life, 
bless her ! But I don't say it quite in that tone, 
Renmark. What's the matter with you ? One 
would think you were in love with the girl 
yourself, if such a thing were possible." 

264 



ffn tbe flhitet of Biarms, 265 

" Why is it not possible ? " 

" If that is a conundrum, I can answer it the 
first time. Because you are a fossil. You are 
too good, Renny ; therefore dull and uninterest- 
ing. Now, there is nothing a woman likes so 
much as to reclaim a man. It always annoys 
a woman to know that the man she is interested 
in has a past with which she has had nothing 
to do. If he is wicked and she can sort of 
make him over, like an old dress, she revels in 
the process. She flatters herself she makes a 
new man of him, and thinks she owns that new 
man by right of manufacture. We owe it to 
the sex, Renny, to give 'em a chance at reform- 
ing us. I have known men who hated tobacco 
take to smoking merely to give it up joyfully for 
the sake of the women they loved. Now, if a 
man is perfect to begin with, what is a dear, 
ministering angel of a woman to do with him ? 
Manifestly nothing. The trouble with you, 
Renny, is that you are too evidently ruled by a 
good and well-trained conscience, and naturally 
all women you meet intuitively see this, and have 
no use for you. A little wickedness would be 
the making of you." 

" You think, then, that if a man's impulse is 
to do what his conscience tells him is wrong, 
he should follow his impulse, and not his con- 
science?" 

" You state the case with unnecessary serious- 
ness. I believe that an occasional blow-out is 
good for a man. But if you ever have an 
impulse of that kind, I think you should give 
way to it for once, just to see how it feels. A 
man who is too good gets conceited about him- 
self." 

" I half believe you are right, Mr. Yates," 
said the professor, rising. " I will act on your 
advice, and, as you put it, see how it feels. My 
conscience tells me that I should congratulate 



266 ifn tbe flfcifcst ot Blarms. 

you, and wish you a long and happy life with 
the girl you have I won't say chosen, but 
tossed up for. The natural man in me, on the 
other hand, urges me to break every bone in your 
worthless body. Throw off your coat, Yates." 

" Oh, I say, Renmark, you're crazy." 

" Perhaps so. Be all the more on your 
guard, if you believe it. A lunatic is sometimes 
dangerous." 

" Oh, go away. You're dreaming. You're 
talking in your sleep. What! Fight? To- 
night ? Nonsense ! " 

" Do you want me to strike you before you 
are ready ? " 

" No, Renny, no. My wants are always 
modest. I don't wish to fight at all, especially 
to-night. I'm a reformed man, I tell you. I 
have no desire to bid good-by to my best girl 
with a black eye to-morrow." 

" Then stop talking, if you can, and defend 
yourself." 

" It's impossible to fight here in the dark. 
Don't flatter yourself for a moment that I am 
afraid. You just spar with yourself and get 
limbered up, while I put some wood on the fire. 
This is too ridiculous." 

Yates gathered some fuel, and managed to 
coax the dying embers into a blaze. 

" There," he said, " that's better. Now, let 
me have a look at you. In the name of wonder, 
Renny, what do you want to fight me for to- 
night ? " 

" I refuse to give my reason." 

" Then I refuse to fight. I'll run, and I can 
beat you in a foot race any day in the week. 
Why, you're worse than her father. He at 
least let me know why he fought me." 

" Whose father ? " 

" Kitty's father, of course my future father- 
in-law. And that's another ordeal ahead of 



1Tn tbe fliM&st of Blarms* 267 

me. I haven't spoken to the old man yet, and 
I need all my fighting grit for that." 

" What are you talking about ? " 

" Isn't my language plain ? It usually is." 

" To whom are you engaged ? As I under- 
stand your talk, it is to Miss Bartlett. Am I 
right ? " 

" Right as rain, Renny. This fire is dying 
down again. Say, can't we postpone our fracas 
until daylight ? I don't want to gather any 
more wood. Besides, one of us is sure to be 
knocked into the fire, and thus ruin whatever is 
left of our clothes. What do you say ? " 

" Say ? I say I am an idiot." 

" Hello ! reason is returning, Renny. I per- 
fectly agree with you." 

" Thank you. Then you did not propose to 
Mar to Miss Howard ? " 

" Now, you touch upon a sore spot, Renmark, 
that I am trying to forget. You remember the 
unfortunate toss-up ; in fact, I think you referred 
to it a moment ago, and you were justly indig- 
nant about it at the time. Well, I don't care to 
talk much about the sequel ; but, as you know 
the beginning, you will have to know the end, 
because I want to wring a sacred promise from 
you. You are never to mention this episode of 
the toss-up, or of my confession, to any living 
soul. The telling of it might do harm, and it 
couldn't possibly do any good. Will you 
promise ? " 

" Certainly. But do not tell me unless you 
wish to." 

" I don't exactly yearn to talk about it, but it 
is better you should understand how the land 
lies, so you won't make any mistake. Not on 
my account, you know, but I would not like it 
to come to Kitty's ears. Yes, I proposed to 
Margaret first. She wouldn't look at me. 
Can you credit that ? " 



268 ifn tbe /BMfcst of Blarme. 

" Well, now that you mention it, I " 

" Exactly. I see you can credit it. Well, I 
couldn't at first ; but Margaret knows her own 
mind, there's no question about that. Say ! 
she's in love with some other fellow. I found 
out that much." 

" You asked her, I presume." 

" Well, it's my profession to find out things ; 
and, naturally, if I do that for my paper, it is 
not likely I am going to be behindhand when it 
comes to myself. She denied it at first, but 
admitted it afterward, and then bolted." 

" You must have used great tact and delicacy." 

" See here, Renmark ; I'm not going to stand 
any of your sneering. I told you this was a 
sore subject with me. I'm not telling you be- 
cause I like to, but because I have to. Don't 
put me in fighting humor, Mr. Renmark. If / 
talk fight, I won't begin for no reason and then 
back out for no reason. I'll go on." 

" I'll be discreet, and beg to take back all I 
said. What else?" 

" Nothing else. Isn't that enough ? It was 
more than enough for me at the time. I tell 
you, Renmark, I spent a pretty bad half hour 
sitting on the fence and thinking about it." 

" So long as that ? " 

Yates rose from the fire indignantly. 

" I take that back, too," cried the professor 
hastily. " I didn't mean it." 

" It strikes me you've become awfully funny 
all of a sudden. Don't you think it's about 
time we took to our bunks ? It's late." 

Renmark agreed with him, but did not turn 
in. He walked to the friendly fence, laid his 
arms along the top rail, and gazed at the 
friendly stars. He had not noticed before how 
lovely the night was, with its impressive still- 
ness, as if the world had stopped, as a steamer 
stops in mid-ocean. After quieting his troubled 



ffn tbe dlMDst of Blarms* 269 

spirit with the restful stars he climbed the 
fence and walked down the road, taking little 
heed of the direction. The still night was a 
soothing companion. He came at last to a 
sleeping village of wooden houses, and through 
the center of the town ran a single line of rails, 
an iron link connecting the unknown hamlet 
with all civilization. A red and a green light 
glimmered down the line, giving the only indi- 
cation that a train ever came that way. As he 
went a mile or two farther the cool breath of 
the great lake made itself felt, and after cross- 
ing a field he suddenly came upon the water, 
finding all further progress in that direction 
barred. Huge sand dunes formed the shore, 
covered with sighing pines. At the foot of the 
dunes stretched a broad beach of firm sand, 
dimly visible in contrast with the darker water ; 
and at long intervals fell the light ripple of the 
languid summer waves, running up the beach 
with a half-asleep whisper, that became softer 
and softer until it was merged in the silence be- 
yond. Far out on the dark waters a point of 
light, like a floating star, showed where a steamer 
was slowly making her way ; and so still was 
the night that he felt rather than heard her 
pulsating engines. It was the only sign of life 
visible from that enchanted bay the bay of the 
silver beach. 

Renmark threw himself down on the soft 
sand at the foot of a dune. The point of light 
gradually worked its way to the west, following, 
doubtless unconsciously, the star of empire, and 
disappeared around the headland, taking with it 
a certain vague sense of companionship. But 
the world is very small, and a man is never 
quite as much alone as he thinks he is. Ren- 
mark heard the low hoot of an owl among the 
trees, which cry he was astonished to hear 
answered from the water. He sat up and 



270 un tbe rtMfcst of Blarms. 

listened. Presently there grated on the sand 
the keel of a boat, and someone stepped ashore. 
From the woods there emerged the shadowy 
forms of three men. Nothing was said, but 
they got silently into the boat, which might 
have been Charon's craft for all he could see of 
it. The rattle of the rowlocks and the plash of 
oars followed, while a voice cautioned the rowers 
to make less noise. It was evident that some 
belated fugitives were eluding the authorities of 
both countries. Renmark thought, with a smile, 
that if Yates were in his place he would at least 
give them a fright. A sharp command to an 
imaginary company to load and fire would 
travel far on such a night, and would give the 
rowers a few moments of great discomfort. 
Renmark, however, did not shout, but treated 
the episode as part of the mystical dream, and 
lay down on the sand again. He noticed that 
the water in the east seemed to feel the approach 
of morning even before the sky. Gradually the 
day dawned, a slowly lightening gray at first, 
until the coming sun spattered a filmy cloud 
with gold and crimson. Renmark watched the 
glory of the sunrise, took one lingering look at 
the curved beauty of the bay shore, shook the 
sand from his clothing, and started back for 
the village and the camp beyond. 

The village was astir when he reached it. 
He was surprised to see Stoliker on horseback 
in front of one of the taverns. Two assistants 
were with him, also seated on horses. The 
constable seemed disturbed by the sight of 
Renmark, but he was there to do his duty. 

" Hello ! " he cried, " you're up early. I have 
a warrant for the arrest of your friend : I sup- 
pose you won't tell me where he is ? " 

"You can't expect me to give any infor- 
mation that will get a friend into trouble, can 
you ? especially as he has done nothing." 



1Tn tbe dlMfcst of Blarms, 271 

" That's as may turn out before a jury," said 
one of the assistants gravely. 

" Yes," assented Stoliker, winking quietly at 
the professor. " That is for judge and jury to 
determine not you." 

" Well," said Renmark, " I will not inform 
about anybody, unless I am compelled to do so, 
but I may save you some trouble by telling 
where I have been and what I have seen. I am 
on my way back from the lake. If you go down 
there, you will still see the mark of a boat's keel 
on the sand, and probably footprints. A boat 
came over from the other shore in the night, 
and a man got on board. I don't say who the 
man was, and I had nothing to do with the 
matter in any way except as a spectator. That 
is all the information I have to give." 

Stoliker turned to his assistants, and nodded. 
" What did I tell you ? " he asked. " We were 
right on his track." 

" You said the railroad/' grumbled the man 
who had spoken before. 

" Well, we were within two miles of him. 
Let us go down to the lake and see the traces. 
Then we can return the warrant." 

Renmark found Yates still asleep in the tent. 
He prepared breakfast without disturbing him. 
When the meal was ready, he roused the re- 
porter and told him of his meeting with Soliker, 
advising him to get back to New York without 
delay. 

Yates yawned sleepily. 

"Yes, "he said, " I've been dreaming it all 
out. I'll get father-in-law to tote me out to 
Fort Erie to-night." 

" Do you think it will be safe to put it off so 
long ? " ' 

" Safer than trying to get away during the 
day. After breakfast I'm going down to the 
Bartlett homestead. Must have a talk with the 



272 ffn tbe /GMfcst of Blarms, 

old folks, you know. I'll spend the rest of the 
day making up for that interview by talking 
with Kitty. Stoliker will never search for me 
there, and, now that he thinks I'm gone, he will 
likely make a visit to the tent. Stoliker is a 
good fellow, but his strong point is duty, you 
know ; and if he's certain I'm gone, he'll give 
his country the worth of its money by search- 
ing. I won't be back for dinner, so you can 
put in your time reading my Dime Novels. I 
make no reflections on your cooking, Renny, 
now that the vacation is over; but I have my 
preferences, and they incline toward a final 
meal with the Bartletts. If I were you, I'd have 
a nap. You look tired out." 

" I am," said the professor. 

Renmark intended to lie down for a few 
moments until Yates was clear of the camp, 
after which he determined to pay a visit ; but 
Nature, when she got him locked up in sleep, 
took her revenge. He did not hear Stoliker 
and his satellites search the premises, just as 
Yates had predicted they would ; and when he 
finally awoke, he found to his astonishment that 
it was nearly dark. But he was all the better 
for his sleep, and he attended to his personal 
appearance with more than ordinary care. 

Old Hiram Bartlett accepted the situation 
with the patient and grim stolidity of a man 
who takes a blow dealt him by a Providence 
known by him to be inscrutable. What he had 
done to deserve it was beyond his comprehen- 
sion. He silently hitched up his horses, and, 
for the first time in his life, drove into Fort 
Erie without any reasonable excuse for going 
there. He tied his team at the usual corner, 
after which he sat at one of the taverns and 
drank strong waters that had no apparent 
effect on him. He even went so far as to 
smoke two native cigars ; and a man who can 



1Tn tbe flfotost of Alarms, 273 

do that can do anything. To bring up a 
daughter who would deliberately accept a man 
from " the States," and to have a wife who 
would aid and abet such an action, giving com- 
fort and support to the enemy, seemed to him 
traitorous to all the traditions of 1812, or any 
other date in the history of the two countries. 
At times wild ideas of getting blind full, and 
going home to break every breakable thing in 
the house, rose in his mind ; but prudence 
whispered that he had to live all the rest of his 
life with his wife, and he realized that this 
scheme of vengeance had its drawbacks. 
Finally, he untied his patient team, after paying 
his bill, and drove silently home, not having 
returned, even by a nod, any of the salutations 
tendered to him that day. He was somewhat 
relieved to find no questions were asked, and 
that his wife recognized the fact that he was 
passing through a crisis. Nevertheless, there 
was a steely glitter in her eye under which he 
uneasily quailed, for it told him a line had been 
reached which it would not be well for him to 
cross. She forgave, but it must not go any 
further. 

When Yates kissed Kitty good-night at the 
gate, he asked her, with some trepidation, 
whether she had told anyone of their engage- 
ment. 

" No one but Margaret," said Kitty. 

" And what did she say ? " asked Yates, as if, 
after all, her opinion was of no importance. 

" She said she was sure I should be happy, 
and she knew you would make a good hus- 
band." 

" She's rather a nice girl, is Margaret," re- 
marked Yates, with the air of a man willing to 
concede good qualities to a girl other than his 
own, but indicating, after all, that there was but 
one on earth for him. 



274 1Fn tbe flhitet of Blarma. 

" She is a lovely girl," said Kitty enthusiastic- 
ally. " I wonder, Dick, when you knew her, 
why you ever fell in love with me." 

" The idea ! I haven't a word to say against 
Margaret ; but, compared with my girl " 

And he finished his sentence with a practical 
illustration of his frame of mind. 

As he walked alone down the road he 
reflected that Margaret had acted very hand- 
somely, and he resolved to drop in and wish 
her good-by. But as he approached the house 
his courage began to fail him, and he thought 
it better to sit on the fence, near the place 
where he had sat the night before, and think it 
over. It took a good deal of thinking. But as 
he sat there it was destined that Yates should 
receive some information which would simplify 
matters. Two persons came slowly out of the 
gate in the gathering darkness. They strolled 
together up the road past him, absorbed in 
themselves. When directly opposite the re- 
porter, Renmark put his arm around Margaret's 
waist, and Yates nearly fell off the fence. He 
held his breath until they were safely out of 
hearing, then slid down and crawled along in 
the shadow until he came to the side road, up 
which he walked, thoughtfully pausing every 

few moments to remark : " Well, I'll be " 

But speech seemed to have failed him ; he could 
get no further. 

He stopped at the fence and leaned against 
it, gazing for the last time at the tent, glimmer- 
ing white, like a misshapen ghost, among the 
somber trees. He had no energy left to climb 
over. 

" Well, I'm a chimpanzee," he muttered to 
himself at last. " The highest bidder can have 
me, with no upset price. Dick Yates, I 
wouldn't have believed it of you. You a news- 
paper man ? You a reporter from 'way back ? 



1fn tbe d&tost of Blarms, 275 

You up to snuff? Yates, I'm ashamed to be 
seen in your company ! Go back to New York, 
and let the youngest reporter in from a country 
newspaper scoop the daylight out of you. To 
think that this thing has been going on right 
under your well-developed nose, and you never 
saw it worse, never had the faintest suspicion 
of it; that it was thrust at you twenty times a 
day nearly got your stupid head smashed on 
account of it ; yet you bleated away like the 
innocent little lamb that you are, and never 
even suspected ! Dick, you're a three-sheet- 
poster fool in colored ink. And to think that 
both of them know all about the first pro- 
posal ! Both of them ! Well, thank Heaven, 
Toronto is a long way from New York." 



THE END. 



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